THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


W.  H.H.MURRAY'S  WORKS. 


ADVENTURES  IN  THE  WILDERNESS ;  OR,  CAMP 
LIFE  IN  THE  ADIRONDACK^.  Illustrated.  Cloth, 
$1.25;  Paper,  5O  cts. 

ADIRONDACK  TALES.  Vol.  I.  :  Story  The  Keg-  Told 
Me,  and  The  Man  Who  Didn't  Know  Much.  Illus 
trated.  $1.50. 

ADIRONDACK  TALES.  Vol.  II.  :  The  Man  Who 
Missed  It,  and  The  Mystery  of  the  Woods.  In  press. 

HOW  JOHN  NORTON  THE  TRAPPER  SPENT  HIS 
CHRISTMAS,  and  Other  Stories.  Illustrated. 
Cloth,  $1.25;  Paper,  5O  cts. 

THE  BUSTED  EX-TEXAN,  and  Other  Stories.  Illus 
trated.  Cloth,  $1.00. 

DAYLIGHT  LAND.  Superbly  illustrated  with  15O 
Engravings,  printed  in  tints,  from  paintings  by 
J.  D.  Woodward,  C.  Broughton  and  other  artists. 
Unique  paper  covers.  $2.5O;  Cloth,  $3.5O  ;  Cloth, 
extra  gilt,  $4.OO. 

MAMELONS  and  UNGAVA.  Two  Canadian  Idyls. 
New.  $1.5O. 

LAKE  CHAMPLAIN  AND  ITS  SHORES.     New.     $1. 
DEACONS.    Illustrated.    Cloth,  75  cts.  ;  Paper,  5O  cts. 
TO  DIE  IS  GAIN.     Religious  Address.    Paper,  25  cts. 
CONTINENTAL  UNITY.     Paper,  25  cts. 


LAKE    CHAMPLAIN 


AND 


ITS    SHORES 


W.    H.    II.    MURRAY 

AUTHOR  OF   "ADVENTURES    IN    THE    WILDERNESS,"    "DAYLIGHT   LAND, 
"ADIRONDACK    TALES,"   "  MAMELONS,"   "  UXGAVA,"    ETC. 


BOSTON 
DE    WOLFE,   FISKE   &   CO. 

363  WASHINGTON  STREET 


COPYRIGHT,  1890, 
BY  W.  II.  H.  MURRAY 


C.  J.  PETERS  &  SON, 

TYPOGRAPHERS  AND  ELECTROTYPERS, 

146  HIGH  STREET,   BOSTON. 


DEDICATION. 


BECAUSE  OF  HIS  ADMIRATION   AND   AFFECTION 

FOR   LAKE    CHAMPLAIN   AND   HIS   SERVICES    IN    BRINGING   IT 

INTO   POPULAR   NOTICE  ;    BECAUSE   OF   HIS  HIGH  STANDING  AND  NOBLE 

NESS     OF     NATURE  ;     AND     BECAUSE     HE     IS     MY     FRIEND, 

I  DEDICATE  THIS   LITTLE  VOLUME  TO  THE 


*  3.  ffircgorg  Smitlj. 


THE  AUTHOR. 


BCKLINGTON,  VT., 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 1 

A  PREPARATORY  CHAPTER  .  .     .         5 


PART  I. 
THE  TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD    ...       43 

PART  IL 

THE  GREAT  NATIONAL  PARK       .......     115 

PART  III. 

LAKE  CIIAMPLAIX  AND  THE  FACILITIES  IT  OFFERS 

TO  YACHTSMEN 131 

SAILING  DIRECTIONS 162 

PART  IV. 

HISTORICAL      REMINISCENCES     AND     FACTS     CON 
NECTED  WITH  THE  SHORES  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN,     186 
THE      GAME      FISH      AND      FISHING      OF      LAKE 

ClIAMPL'AlX  237 


INTRODUCTION. 


I  HAVE  prepared  this  volume  in  the  interest 
of  history  and  of  pleasure  both.  In  the  first 
place  I  desired  to  collect  and  popularize 
certain  facts  and  incidents  which  have  re 
mained  hidden  from  general  observation  or 
published  in  such  a  disconnected  manner  as 
to  be  practically  useless  in  the  cause  of 
correct  knowledge.  I  wished  also  to  correct 
certain  errors  of  place  and  name  and  con 
clusion  that  writers  and  speakers  have  inva 
riably  fallen  into  when  mentioning  matters 
connected  with  Lake  Champlain  and  its 
shores.  Above  all  else  I  desired  to  call 
national  attention,  especially  that  of  scholars 
and  students  in  our  colleges  and  public  schools, 
to  the  historic  events  which  had  occurred 


2  INTRODUCTION. 

in  this  valley,  and  their  intimate  connection 
with  American  liberty  and  civilization;,  for 
it  seemed  to  me  that  these  would  be  in 
tensely  interested  in  a  theme  so  significant, 
and  to  which  their  attention  may  never  have 
been  directly  called.  I  had  at  the  start  a 
larger  work  in  contemplation,  and  for  years 
have  been  collecting  material  for  it ;  but 
under  the  present  condition  of  the  public 
taste  in  respect  to  letters  it  is  not  likely 
that  such  a  work  would  be  commercially 
profitable  to  a  publisher ;  and  as  we  are 
now  living,  as  regards  literature,  in  a  regime  of 
dollars  and  cents,  when  mental  efforts  are 
weighed  in  the  same  scale  with  sugar  and 
hams,  the  question  which  decides  all  schol 
arly  ventures  is,  whether  it  will  pay  or  not. 
The  historical  section  of  this  little  volume 
should,  therefore,  be  regarded  by  the  reader 
as  a  suggestion  rather  than  a  treatment  of 
the  subject. 

I    desired,    furthermore,    to    commend    this 


INTRODUCTION.  3 

lake  to  the  favor  of  the  American  people, 
not  only  because  of  its  historic  connections, 
but  because  while  it  stands  at  present  com 
paratively  unoccupied,  it  nevertheless  supplies 
to  them,  for  the  purpose  of  recreation,  one 
of  the  most  desirable  pleasure  resorts  of  the 
country.  Having  seen  most  of  the  localities 
of  the  continent  noted  for  their  beauty,  I 
can  but  declare  that  I  know  no  other  spot 
which  for  loveliness  of  appearance,  majesty 
of  scenery,  and  varied  resources  of  entertain 
ment  can  compare  with  Lake  Champlain. 
Nature  has  signalized  and  history  has  em 
phasized  it  with  such  charms  and  attractions 
that  it  challenges  the  attention  and  invites 
the  presence  of  all  who  love  the  one  or 
are  impressed  with  the  other.  As  among 
waterfalls  there  is  but  one  Niagara  in  the 
country,  so  among  lakes  there  is  but  one 
Champlain.  Geographically  connected  as  it  is 
with  the  Horicon  and  the  Hudson  on  the 
south  and  the  St.  Lawrence  on  the  north ; 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

with  the  Adirondacks  and  the  White  Moun 
tains  on  the  west  and  east,  it  invites  the 
visitors  of  these  celebrated  localities  to  the 
spectacle  of  its  marvellous  beauty  and  the  view 
of  its  historic  places  and  ruins. 

THE    AUTHOR. 


A   PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 


OUTDOOR   LIFE. 

THE  tendency  of  our  times  is  to  quit  the 
fields,  and  crowd  into  the  street ;  to  desert 
the  hillside,  and  pore  over  a  book  in  some 
study.  The  tide  of  our  civilization  sets  towards 
the  cities.  The  drift  of  the  age  is  all  urban. 
We  are  a  nation  of  city-builders,  and  the  arti 
ficial  characteristics  of  city  population  are  fast 
printing  themselves  upon  the  body  of  society. 
We  are  tattooed  from  head  to  foot  with  city 
impressions,  and  if  these  impressions  could  only 
be  repeated  in  color,  we  should  see  how  few  of 
the  markings  are  natural,  and  how  many  are 
the  result  of  art  and  the  skill  of  human  ap 
pliance.  The  problem  of  government  on  the 
continent  is  the  problem  of  controlling  the 
population  of  our  cities.  The  republic  to-night, 
in  the  number  of  its  votes,  is  not  agricultural 


6  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

and  rural,  it  is  commercial,  mechanical,  urban. 
The  cities  of  America  already  dictate  the  policy 
of  America.  Even  religion  is  growing  to  be 
metropolitan.  The  time  was  when  the  great 
lights  of  theology  and  of  pulpit  power  were 
country  pastors.  The  time  was  in  Connecticut, 
when  Porter  at  Washington,  and  Bellamy  at 
Bethlehem,  and  Beecher  on  Litchfield  Hill, 
directed  the  religious  life  of  Connecticut 
churches.  To-day  the  pastors  in  those  villages 
exercise  no  appreciable  influence  on  the  morals 
or  the  religious  opinions  of  the  State.  To-day, 
the  best  preachers,  by  a  tendency  of  the  time 
that  no  power  can  resist,  are  drawn  into  the 
cities.  The  best  thinkers  are  either  in,  or 
grouped  around,  our  universities ;  and  the 
social  life,  the  intellectual  stimulus  and  the 
religious  characteristics  of  our  universities  are 
moulded  into  the  form  of  metropolitan  customs 
and  associations.  The  home-life  of  the  nation 
has  been  influenced  to  the  same  extent  and  in 
the  same  direction.  The  homesteads  of  New 
England  have  passed,  or  are  fast  passing,  from 
the  control  of  New  England  men  and  women, 
into  the  hands  of  those  of  foreign  extraction. 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  7 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  old  New  England 
home-life  is  already  a  thing  of  the  past.  Even 
the  fireplace,  which  had  in  it  such  elements 
of  cheerfulness  and  good  health  that  it  would 
seem  able  to  withstand  any  innovation,  has 
now  become  such  a  rarity  as  to  be  a  matter 
of  pleasurable  surprise  when  you  enter  a  house 
and  see  a  cheerful  fire  burning.  These  things 
are  straws  which  show  the  drift  of  the  current 
and  the  swiftness  of  it.  In  these  changes  are 
written  the  history  of  a  revolution  —  a  revolu 
tion  in  manners,  in  usage,  in  habits  of  living ; 
and  such  a  revolution  is  more  radical,  far- 
reaching,  and  momentous  in  its  influence  than 
one  which  is  expressed  in  war  and  battle.  The 
roar  of  cannon  and  the  gleam  of  swords  are 
less  significant  of  change  than  the  destruction 
of  New  England  homesteads,  the  bricking- 
up  of  New  England  fireplaces,  and  the  doing 
away  with  the  New  England  well-sweep ;  for 
these  show  a  change  in  the  nature  of  the  cir 
culation  itself,  and  prove  that  the  action  of  the 
popular  heart  has  been  interrupted,  modified, 
and  become  altogether  different  from  what  it 
was. 


A   PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

Now  city  life  means  indoor  life.  Cities  are 
made  up  of  houses,  and  composed  of  buildings 
that  men  build.  And  those  that  live  in  cities, 
from  the  necessities  of  their  condition,  live  in 
houses.  From  the  houses  where  they  sleep, 
men  pass  to  the  houses  where  they  work,  and 
they  take  the  shortest  cut  from  the  one  to 
the  other  and  bribe  the  inventiveness  of  the 
age  to  supply  them  with  the  quickest  locomo 
tion.  Our  amusements  as  well  as  our  business 
are  all  within-doors.  The  games  which  our 
children  play  are  parlor  games ;  and  the  games 
which  the  children  of  a  country  play  photo 
graph  the  future  life  of  the  country.  The 
amusements  of  a  nation  more  than  its  business 
shape  the  character  of  it.  The  difference 
between  the  recreation  of  a  Parisian  and  the 
recreations  of  a  Swiss  mountaineer  portray  the 
difference  between  the  two  men ;  and  as  they 
differ  so  will  their  children.  Their  virtues  even 
are  unlike,  both  in  nature  and  the  mode  and 
sphere  of  their  exercise.  The  one  is  strong, 
hearty,  healthy ;  the  other  is  weak,  suave, 
feverish.  The  one  is  impulsive,  the  other 
constant. 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  9 

The  great  lack  of  our  cities  —  the  lack  which 
should  challenge  our  gravest  attention  —  is  seen 
in  the  absence  of  playgrounds  for  our  children. 
What  every  American  city  needs  are  places 
where  the  boys  can  skate  and  coast,  and  race 
and  wrestle ;  where  the  girls  can  romp  and 
gather  flowers,  and  hold  their  sociables  under 
the  shadow  of  trees  and  on  the  banks  of 
streams.  The  absence  of  these  facilities  which 
are  essential  to  the  proper  development  of  boy 
hood  and  girlhood  —  for  the  real  health  of  their 
bodies,  the  growth  of  their  minds,  and  the 
purity  of  their  morals  —  will  tell  fatally  on 
the  rising  generation.  You  can't  grow  trees 
of  tough  fibre  without  the  help  of  wind.  No 
richness  of  soil,  no  sunniness  of  exposure,  no 
nursing  of  skilled  arboriculture  will  give  unto 
the  hickory  the  fineness  of  its  fibre,  or  to  the 
oak  its  stalwart  strength.  It  must  bear  the 
pressure  of  currents ;  it  must  stand  up  against 
the  violence  of  atmospheric  commotion;  it 
must  have  charged  into  it  the  conservatism  of 
frost  and  the  pliancy  which  comes  from  move 
ment  and  moisture.  You  can't  grow  strong 
trees  under  a  glass  roof.  No  more  can  you  grow 


10  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

boys  into  strong  men  by  any  indoor  culture. 
Neither  the  care  of  love,  nor  the  skill  of  medi 
cine,  nor  the  appliances  which  money  can  buy, 
nor  any  system  of  schoolroom  education  will 
give  unto  them  those  forces  and  inculcate  those 
principles  which  they  need  when  the  tasks  and 
duties  of  manhood  are  laid  upon  them.  They 
need  the  freedom  of  the  fields  and  the  stream. 
They  must  breathe  of  the  strength  of  the  wind. 
They  must  receive  through  the  pores  of  their 
skin  the  ministry  of  the  sun.  They  must  have 
the  discipline  of  weariness  and  risk.  They 
must  be  strengthened  in  their  courage  by  oppo 
sition,  and  learn  self-mastery  and  self-respect 
under  the  provocation  of  active  companionship 
with  nature  and  with  their  mates.  I  take  no 
stock  in  the  babying  of  boys.  I  resent  the 
fashion  which  makes  little  girls  nothing  but 
animated  dolls.  The  girls  that  make  the  best 
women,  the  best  wives,  the  best  mothers,  are 
the  girls  that  are  educated  in  the  school  of 
industry,  in  the  school  of  service  for  others ;  in 
that  school  in  which  every  scholar  has  his  own 
burden  to  bear  and  is  taught  how  to  bear  it. 
The  beauty  of  natural  life  is  seen  in  its 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  11 

liberties.  The  tyranny  which  is  the  worst  form 
of  tyranny  is  not  the  tyranny  of  the  strong, 
gauntleted  hand,  but  the  tyranny  of  soft 
fingers  and  gloved  palms.  Luxury  is  the 
heaviest  oppression.  Boys  and  girls  are  ruined 
by  what  they  have,  by  the  lavishness  of  paren 
tal  giving,  and  not  by  what  they  lack.  The 
women  that  gave  most  of  us  birth,  and  en 
dowed  us  with  their  strength,  were  women  that 
worked  themselves,  and  whose  doing  day  by 
day  and  week  by  week  made  them  strong. 
The  faces  back  of  us  that  we  love  most  are  the 
wearied  faces,  wearied  in  their  services  of  love, 
wearied  in  nightly  vigils  and  daily  ministra 
tions  of  actual  toil. 

There  is  a  ministration  also  which  comes  to 
the  soul  of  one  who  lives  the  outdoor  life  of 
nature.  The  best  wisdom  of  the  world  has 
never  been  printed.  You  can't  find  it  in  books. 
It  has  never  been  translated  out  of  the  sky,  the 
flower,  the  white  passing  cloud,  the  running 
stream,  -and  the  rustling  leaf  into  words. 
Knowledge  can  be  obtained  out  of  books.  But 
knowledge  is  only  the  gross,  fleshly  body  of 
wisdom  ;  and  the  soul  of  wisdom,  the  fine  spirit 


12  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

of  intelligence,  the  divinity  of  fact,  and  law, 
and  life  expressive  of  persons,  and  force,  and 
things,  abhors  the  crash  of  the  printing-press. 

The  discoveries  that  have  lifted  the  world 
were  not  made  by  book-readers.  Galileo  ques 
tioned  the  heavens,  and  from  amidst  their 
starry  splendors,  from  the  still  distance  of  their 
dim  depths,  they  answered  him  with  the  stupen 
dous  assertion  that  the  earth  moved  through 
space.  The  scholars  of  the  world  laughed  at 
him ;  the  ecclesiastics  arraigned  him,  and,  with 
the  threat  of  torture,  made  his  lips  declare  a 
lie.  But  he  knew  then,  and  we  know  to-day, 
that  the  heavens  had  not  lied  to  him,  and  that 
nature  had  taught  him  a  wisdom  worth  all  the 
libraries  of  the  world.  Watt  did  not  get  the 
hint  of  the  marvellous  energy  of  compressed 
steam  from  poring  over  books.  He  questioned 
a  natural  force,  and  that  force  revealed  unto 
him  a  secret  mighty  enough  to  revolutionize 
civilization. 

Newton  found  the  power  which  propels  the 
machinery  of  the  universe,  hanging  on  the 
bough  of  an  apple-tree  —  saw  in  the  force  of  an 
apple  the  mystery  of  motion,  and  an  answer  to 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  13 

questions  which  had  puzzled  the  wise  from  the 
birth  of  the  race.  Franklin  opened  up  a  new 
world  of  knowledge  while  playing  with  a  kite. 
The  winds  lifted  his  interrogation  into  the 
heavens,  and  the  heavens  answered  it  with  the 
revelation  of  a  hitherto  unknown  power  —  a 
power  which  to-day  makes  thought  universal, 
and  brings  the  remotest  parts  of  the  earth  face 
to  face.  Men  read  the  books  of  Agassiz,  but 
he  himself  read  wisdom  in  the  fin  of  the  fish, 
the  wing  of  the  bird,  and  the  living  organisms 
of  nature.  Audubon  spent  forty  years  in  field 
and  forest,  on  the  seashore  and  the  banks  of 
streams  to  show  scholars  how  profound  was  their 
ignorance  of  what  was  perched  on  their  house 
tops,  confined  in  their  cages,  and  building  nests 
in  every  thicket  and  grove  in  the  land. 

And  so  I  might  go  on  with  the  enumeration, 
but  of  what  avail  would  it  be  ?  I  have  said 
enough  to  give  your  minds  the  direction  of  my 
thought.  You  can  see  how  little  of  that 
knowledge  which  is  profitable,  which  is  essen 
tial  to  civilization  itself  has  come  from  the 
study  of  the  library,  and  how  much  has  come 
from  the  great  outdoors.  The  true  library  to 


14  A   PREPARATORY    CHAPTER. 

read  —  the  library  on  whose  shelves  and  in 
whose  alcoves  is  not  a  useless  volume  —  is  the 
library  of  nature.  Her  facts  are  recorded  in 
forces ;  are  apprehended  in  the  operations  of 
laws  ;  are  written  in  the  structure  of  animals, 
and  visible  in  the  nature  of  things.  And  if 
one  is  ambitious  after  knowledge  ;  if  he  craves 
facts ;  if  he  hungers  after  information,  then  let 
him  leave  his  house,  turn  his  back  on  his  books, 
and  go  where  great  men  have  always  gone.  - 
to  the  very  source  and  fountain-head  of  accu 
rate  intelligence,  —  and  drink  of  the  flowing 
streams  as  they  flowed. 

But  there  is  a  finer  knowledge  than  that 
which  relates  to  the  mind.  It  is  the  knowledge 
of  that  which  has  for  its  object  the  inspiration 
and  building-up  of  the  soul. 

Now,  the  weak  point  in  American  society 
to-day  is  its  artificiality.  The  life  of  many  is 
but  a  vain  show.  They  seem  to  be  what  they 
are  not.  They  surround  themselves  with 
splendid  appearances,  while  they  themselves  are 
ignoble.  They  purchase  a  magnificent  frame, 
within  the  golden  borders  of  which  they  insert 
a  daub  and  call  it  a  work  of  a  master.  We 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  15 

have  made  money  too  fast  in  the  last  forty 
years.  We  have  developed  the  material  pros 
perity  of  the  country  too  rapidly  not  to  have 
had  the  standard  by  which  the  worth  and 
worthlessness  of  things  are  measured  inverted. 
Wealth  stands  for  worth.  Beauty  of  face 
makes  good  the  absence  of  beauty  of  soul. 
Sensationalism  in  the  pulpit  draws  better  than 
true  oratory.  Shystering  in  law  pays  as  well 
as  a  solid  legal  ability.  Spread-eagle  and  bun 
combe  in  Congress,  and  nimble  facility  for 
voting  money  in  behalf  of  great  "  internal 
improvements,'1  and  of  voting  money,  too,  in 
behalf  of  one's  self,  carry  the  suffrage  of  a  dis 
trict  against  patriotism,  ability,  and  unimpeach 
able  character.  There  is  a  craving  desire  on  the 
part  of  everybody  to  seem  to  know  more  than 
they  know,  to  be  worth  more  than  they  are 
worth,  to  look  beautiful  when  nature  has  made 
them  plain,  to  talk  knowingly  about  books  that 
they  have  never  read  ;  and  this  spirit  of  artifi 
cial  living,  this  tendency  to  exaggerate  one's 
self,  has  passed  its  virus  into  the  very  blood  of 
American  life. 

We  know  that  every  age  and  every  nation 


16  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

has  its  characteristic  vice,  as  every  face  has  its 
prominent  feature.  The  vices  of  nations  are 
personal  and  distinctive.  History  will  empha 
size  this  suggestion  to  your  memory.  The  vice 
of  Rome  was  military  glory,  an  inordinate 
thirst  for  empire,  a  craving  for  universal  power. 
She  tossed  her  eagles  into  the  air  and  charged 
them  to  draw  the  line  of  their  flight  to  the 
boundaries  of  the  world.  They  did.  But 
wherever  they  flew,  they  flew  with  dripping 
talons,  and  the  shadow  of  their  wings  as  they 
passed  over  peoples  and  kingdoms  was  to  those 
who  dwelt  underneath  the  shadow  of  death. 
That  was  her  vice,  and  it  finally  slew  her  with 
its  own  sword. 

The  vice  of  Greece,  the  land  of  sun  and  song, 
was  worship  of  the  human  body.  Greece 
deified  the  physique,  idolized  the  human  struc 
ture,  and  bowed  in  adoration  before  the  god  her 
wit  and  care  and  culture  had  made.  For  its 
brow  she  wreathed  her  laurels,  in  its  praise  she 
sang  her  songs,  and  to  perpetuate  its  beauty 
and  glory  she  wrought,  with  a  thousand  edu 
cated  chisels,  her  matchless  marbles.  Her 
deities  were  only  large  men  and  large  women 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  17 

with  majestic  faces  and  perfect  limbs  and  beau 
tiful  forms.  Her  vice  was  poetic,  was  refined, 
was  spirituelle,  but  none  the  less  vice.  Her 
gods  were  mortal,  and  of  course  the  worshipers 
could  not  outlive  the  gods.  She  pushed  the 
triumph  of  her  civilization  to  the  limit  of  the 
possible  as  regards  human  development.  It 
rose  like  a  rocket  to  the  apex  of  its  flight, 
burst  in  the  day  of  Pericles  in  a  shower  of 
glory,  then  faded  forever  from  the  sky. 

The  vice  of  Spain  was  bigotry.  She  made  a 
pride  of  her  narrowness.  The  Spaniard  wrould 
not  investigate,  and  in  the  arrogance  of  his 
ignorance  he  forbade  investigation.  Into  his 
narrow  mind  the  dream  of  a  new  world  could 
not  enter.  His  priest-ridden  intellect  could  not 
admit  to  itself  the  mighty  movement  of  the 
heavens,  nor  his  senses  acknowledge  that  the 
earth  beneath  his  feet  was  forever  rolling  on  in 
its  sublime  career.  He  scoffed  at  Columbus, 
and  threatened  Galileo  with  the  rack.  He 
advertised  himself  as  the  bigot  of  the  ages. 

The-  vice  of  France,  since  the  time  of  Charle 
magne,  has  been  fickleness.  France  has  been 
like  a  sea,  blown  upon  and  tossed.  France  has 


18  A   PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

been  like  a  ship  running  in  a  gale,  crowded 
with  canvas,  without  an  anchor  on  deck,  and 
without  a  helm.  Her  career  has  been  rapid, 
but  eccentric  —  now  empire,  now  kingdom,  now 
republic,  now  anarchy.  To-day  blindly  obe 
dient  to  priests ;  to-morrow,  a  total  disregarder 
of  all  religious  convictions.  France  has  been 
as  a  man  subject  to  intermittent  insanity.  To 
day  she  is  sane ;  to-morrow  she  is  kept  at  her 
work  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 

The  vice  of  Germany  is  scepticism  —  the 
scepticism  which  is  born  of  libraries,  which  is 
breathed  by  those  who  spend  their  days  and 
their  nights  in  the  dim  recesses  of  misty 
alcoves ;  the  scepticism  which  comes  from  the 
over-reading  of  books,  and  too  little  and  too 
narrow  observation  of  men ;  the  scepticism 
which  the  specialist  is  exposed  to,  whose  mind 
is  forever  condensed  into  one  ray  and  focalized 
upon  one  minute  point ;  who  knows  one  truth, 
but  knows  not  the  relations  which  it  sustains  to 
a  thousand  other  truths,  and  who  has  never 
mastered  the  sublime  harmony  of  the  arranged 
whole. 

The  vice  of  England  —  well,  what  is  it  ?     It 


OUTDOOR   LIFE.  19 

is  selfishness.  The  selfishness  of  fifty  thousand 
landholders  who  will  not  part  with  an  acre 
that  the  millions  living  around  them  may  own 
a  square  foot  of  the  soil  which  the  sweat  of 
their  industry  moistens  and  irrigates  to  fruitful- 
ness  ;  the  selfishness  of  hereditary  aristocracy 
jealous  of  its  honors  —  honors  which  they  have 
never  fought  for,  but  which  have  been  trans 
mitted  to  them ;  of  fame  which  they  have 
never  won  on  the  sea  nor  the  battle-field  ;  of 
immense  wealth,  to  whose  full  coffers  their 
hands  have  never  contributed  a  dollar.  A  self- 
is]  mess  which  regards  the  whole  world  as  only 
a  huge  sponge,  providentially  made  and  filled 
witli  the  moistening  of  riches  for  the  British 
lingers  to  grasp  and  press  the  golden  contents 
into  British  coffers. 

And  so  I  might  question  all  nations,  from 
the  beginning  of  history  down  to  the  present 
time,  and  we  should  see  that  each  nation  and 
each  age  has  had  its  characteristic,  prevailing, 
and  distinguishing  vice.  Well,  what  is  the  vice 
of  America  ?  It  is  not  military  glory  as  was 
Rome's  ;  for  we  do  not  thirst  for  conquest,  and 
our  young  men  prefer  the  employment  of  peace 


20  A  PREPARATORY  CHAPTER. 

to  the  risk  and  the  deprivations  of  war.  It  is 
not  deification  of  the  physique.  I  wish  we  re 
garded  our  bodies  with  greater  reverence,  and 
gave  unto  them  the  attention  of  finer  care.  It 
is  not  bigotry  ;  for  we  are  liberal  and  tolerant. 
Twenty  denominations  and  twice  as  many 
creeds  live  at  peace  within  our  borders.  It  is 
not  fickleness  ;  for  we  are  stable.  Through  the 
most  radical  and  rattle-brained  Yankee  in  New 
England  there  runs  a  broad,  strong  streak  of 
conservatism.  Blood  will .  tell ;  and  the  old 
Puritan  blood,  the  constitution-loving  blood  of 
old  England,  the  blood  which  wrung  the  great 
Magna  Charta  from  King  John,  and  gave  to 
the  world  constitutional  liberty  —  this  blood, 
which  flows  in  our  veins  to-day,  gives  unto  us 
all  a  sense  of  caution  ;  a  jury-like  patience  in 
hearing  both  sides  of  a  case ;  a  determination 
not  to  jump  before  we  look.  I  never  saw  a 
Yankee  yet  that  had  not  at  least  ten-twentieths 
of  old  fogy  blood  in  his  veins.  I  never  yet 
saw  a  Yankee  as  impulsive  as  an  Irishman,  or 
as  wild-headed  as  a  Frenchman,  or  as  subject 
to  spasms  and  fits  as  an  Italian.  It  is  not 
scepticism ;  for  we  are  reverent  and  believing, 


OUTDOOR   LIFE.  21 

I  think  1  may  say  credulous.  The  Yankee 
loves  his  creed  as  the  Irishman  loves  a  cudgel. 
It  enables  him  to  whack  a  man  religiously. 
The  old  Adam  in  him,  which  "his  piety  forbids 
him  to  express  in  profanity,  he  can  let  out  in 
theological  argument.  The  amount  of  irrelig- 
iousness  which  a  Maine  Baptist  and  a  New 
Hampshire  Congregationalist  can  work  out  of 
themselves  in  the  course  of  a  forty-minute 
religious  discussion  of  their  respective  tenets 
can  never  be  computed  by  the  resources  of  the 
calculus. 

What,  then,  is  the  characteristic  vice  of 
America  ?  What  is  the  distinctive  weakness 
of  our  character  ?  What  is  the  prevailing 
shame  of  the  day  ?  It  is  artifice.  The  Ameri 
can  character  is  not  a  genuine  one.  It  is  a 
made-up  character  —  a  character  based  upon 
seeming,  not  being.  This  vice  is  spread 
through  all  the  thousand  and  one  possible  ex 
pressions  of  society.  You  can  see  it  crop  out 
everywhere.  Men  love  to  seem  to  be  rich, 
richer  than  they  are  ;  and  to  keep  up  appear 
ances  they  sacrifice  integrity,  peace  of  mind, 
domestic  happiness,  and  even  commercial  honor 


A   PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

itself.  Women  join  in  this  feeling  of  rivalry. 
They  dress  for  appearances  and  not  for  comfort 
and  health.  Their  standard  is  to  outshine 
some  one,  to  outdo  some  one,  and  to  cast  into 
the  shade  some  more  modest  or  more  truthful 
neighbor.  Girls  love  to  he  thought  handsomer 
than  they  are,  and  leave  the  true  road  which 
leads  the  human  figure  and  face  up  to  beauty, 
health,  and  that  way  of  life  and  dress  which 
leads  to  health.  They  resort  to  artificial 
methods,  to  art,  and  contrivance,  and  wit,  whose 
nature  is  hypocrisy,  and  whose  ultimate  issue 
can  be  nothing  but  mortification  and  a  broken- 
down  constitution.  A  really  frank,  open, 
genuine  person  is  so  rarely  met  with  to-day 
that  it  is  almost  dangerous  to  be  so,  for  such  a 
one  is  a  marked  person,  and  sensible  and  sensi 
tive  people  shrink  from  being  remarked  upon 
and  gossiped  about ;  and  so,  from  self-defence,  as 
it  were,  because  of  the  evil  usage  of  the  times, 
even  they  wrho  would  be  natural  are  compelled 
to  adopt  the  wretched  habit  of  evasion  and 
semi-hypocrisy.  This,  of  course,  leads  to  inju 
rious  reticence,  and  this  habit  of  reticence 
affects  not  only  social  circles  injuriously,  but 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  23 

every  circle.  The  man  of  business  does  not 
dare  to  reveal  the  state  of  his  business,  does 
not  dare  to  say  how  little  capital  he  is  doing 
business  on,  and  so  evasion  and  deceit,  false 
hood  and  pretentiousness,  even  lying  itself,  are 
the  inevitable  resorts  of  his  policy.  These  are 
the  things  that  honeycomb  the  foundation  of 
credit  and  charge  the  air  full  of  suspicion, 
which  trade,  having  breathed,  becomes  para 
lyzed  through  all  her  members.  Into  the  same 
dreadful  habit  falls  the  politician  who  thinks 
one  thing;  and  savs  another.  He  knows  what 

O  \J 

is  the  truth,  but  he  won't  say  it.  He  is  not 
frank  and  open  and  fair  in  his  talk  to  his  con 
stituents.  And  so  strongly  has  this  habit 
become  settled  as  a  rule  and  policy  among 
American  politicians,  that  he  is  called  the  best 
politician  who  can  conceal  most  and  deceive 
most.  He  who  has  that  which  enables  him  to 
be  a  first-class,  gilt-edged  rascal  is  called  a  first- 
class,  successful  politician. 

And  the  same  tendency  can  be  seen  in  the 
pulpit.  Many  men  in  the  pulpits  of  the  coun 
try  to-day  are  not  saying  their  latest  thought  to 
their  people.  If  you  ask  them  why,  they  will 


24  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

tell  you  because  they  dare  not  do  it.  The  man 
will  say,  "If  I  should  tell  my  people  what  I 
think  about  the  inspiration  of  some  books  of 
the  Old  Testament ;  if  I  should  give  them  my 
ideas  of  the  book  of  Job,  such  as  all  scholars 
know  ;  if  I  should  even  enumerate  the  errors 
of  translation  which  my  acquaintance  with 
Greek  and  Hebrew  have  brought  me,  my 
church  would  rise  up  and  demand  my  dismis 
sion,  my  deacons  would  charge  me  with  danger 
ous  tendencies,  and  my  brothers  in  the  ministry 
around  about  me  would  among  themselves 
speak  of  my  honesty  as  folly,  and  in  council 
declare  me  an  unsafe  guide." 

The  reason  why  so  many  preachers  are  dull 
is  because  they  are  repetitious.  There  is  no 
fragrance  in  the  flowers  they  gather  week  by 
week  for  their  people,  because  they  are  the 
faded  flowers,  the  withered  bouquets  that  have 
hung  in  the  theological  garrets  for  a  hundred 
and  fifty  years.  No  wonder  that  the  people 
sniff  them  and  find  no  pleasure  therein ;  no 
wonder  that  they  endure  preaching  rather  than 
love  it.  There  is  nothing  more  strongly  de 
manded  by  the  necessities  of  the  times  than 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  25 

that  each  preacher  should  begin  to  be  honest 
in  dealing  with  his  people,  should  begin  to 
appear  intellectually  conscientious  and  give 
forth  to  his  congregation  his  latest  convictions 
of  truth,  and  the  result  of  his  latest  investiga 
tion  as  a  student  of  truth.  The  human  mind 
is  a  growth,  not  a  substance,  and  in  order  that 
it  may  become  a  power  its  growth  must  be  kept 
before  the  people.  It  is  like  that  Apocalyptic 
tree  of  which  John  dreamed,  "  which  yielded 
its  fruit  every  month,  and  whose  leaves  were 
for  the  healing  of  the  nations."  So  a  preach 
er's  mind  should  ripen  its  monthly  fruitage  for 
the  people's  taste,  and  the  suggestions  which 
the  winds  of  occasion  would  blow  down  from 
its  branches,  as  leaves  are  blown  from  the  trees, 
would  be  such  suggestions  as  never  before  came 
forth  from  the  branches  of  the  human  mind. 
And  the  people  who  sit  under  the  shadow  of 
such  a  ministry  find  their  footl  ever  fresh  and 
its  offerings  ever  new.  And  this  habit  of 
speaking 'out  one's  latest  thought  in  the  min 
istry  would  make  a  minister  thoughtful,  would 
stir  a  thousand  beneficent  agitations,  and  keep 
the  parish  surroundings  lively  with  mental  in- 


26  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

terchanges  and  spiritual  impart ments.  The 
man  whose  parish  to-night  is  calm,  but  calm 
with  the  dead  level  of  mental  stagnation, 
should  at  once  start  a  breeze  in  that  parish,  and 
stir  his  people  with  rippling  discussions  ;  and  if 
enemies,  if  bigotry,  if  envy  seize  upon  his 
frankness  and  his  intellectual  candor  and  his 
spiritual  honesty,  and  strive  to  convert  them 
into  weapons  to  light  him  with,  he  should  stand 
forth  in  the  might  of  genuine  nature,  panoplied 
in  the  power  of  truthful  studentship,  clothed  in 
the  armor  of  one  who  speaks  what  the  Lord 
gives  him  to  say,  whether  man  will  hear  or 
forbear.  And  so  acting  he  would  find  that 
danger  would  cease  to  be  danger,  risk  would 
lose  its  characteristic  of  peril,  and  to  his  own 
life  would  come  a  magnificent  growth,  and  into 
it  his  people  would  grow  with  him. 

I  hold  that  beyond  all  other  men  clergymen 
should  live  as  much  as  possible  out  of  doors. 
Like  plants  they  need  air,  they  need  sunshine, 
they  need  the  ministrations  of  the  natural.  In 
this  way  they  become  simple,  devout,  bold,  and 
true.  Nature  inspires  no  cowards.  Nature  be 
gets  no  pedantry.  Nature  suggests  no  bigotry. 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  27 

The  spirit  of  devotion  tabernacles  among  the 
hills.  Neither  saint  nor  sinner  can  truly  wor 
ship  God  while  he  sleeps  under  a  shingled  roof. 
Visions  of  duty,  vast,  sublime,  overwhelming, 
never  come  to  one  who  sleeps  in  a  chamber 
whose  measurement  is  ten  by  twelve.  You  must 
leave  your  houses,  friends,  and  go  forth  into  the 
open  air.  Leave  the  city  and  go  into  the  wilder 
ness,  and  there,  far  from  human  habitations, 
make  your  bed  beneath  the  stars,  and  lift  your 
eyes  toward  the  magnificent  dome  in  which  they 
shine,  and  feel  the  weight  of  the  immense 
distances  settling  on  you,  or  ever  you  can  know 
the  majesty  of  God  or  the  solemn  joy  of  which 
the  soul  is  capable  when  it  is  lifted  heavenward 
in  worship. 

Not  only  is  the  religious  nature  developed  by 
outdoor  influence,  not  only  does  nature  develop 
the  spiritual  faculties,  but  the  social  nature  is 
influenced  to  an  equal  extent  by  her  benign 
power.  Nature  is  full  of  voices,  and  they  are 
all  happy.  Nature  never  scolds,  never  chafes, 
never  frets,  never  worries  one.  She  is  full  of 
music,  and  fun  and  merriment  are  her  delight. 
I  have  lain  for  many  an  hour  hidden  amid  her 


28  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

leaves  and  her  grasses,  and  seen  denizens  of 
lake  and  forest  act  out  their  natures  uncon 
scious  of  my  observation.  I  have  laughed  till 
tears  stood  in  my  eyes  to  see  the  playfulness  of 
her  fish  and  her  birds,  the  gambols  and  mis 
chievous  pranks  of  her  animals. 

Now,  all  men  are  made  to  laugh.  Every  man 
can  be  tickled  if  you  find  the  right  nerve.  No 
man  is  so  crusty  that  lie  won't  mellow  up  at  a 
picnic,  or  on  a  fishing  trip,  or  at  a  fox  hunt. 
And  -  the  laughing  which  nature  prompts  is 
never  bitter,  never  cynical.  Nature  brings  out 
the  real  human  that  lies  latent  in  one,  uncaps 
the  choked-up  springs  of  merriment  in  the 
bosom,  and  sets  the  rivulet  of  laughter  flowing. 
The  laughter  of  indoor  life  is  smothered,  con 
strained,  puckered  into  forms  of  politeness  ; 
but  the  laughter  of  the  outdoor  life  is  large 
and  hearty  and  thoroughly  jolly.  "  No  one 
laughs  well  who  doesn't  laugh  loud,"  says  the 
old  proverb  ;  and  the  proverbs  of  a  people  are 
the  wisdom  of  a  people  condensed.  The  fact  is, 
the  funniest  laughter  is  the  laughter  that  one 
has  alone.  It  is  very  well  to  laugh  in  company, 
for  custom  and  benevolence  alike  demand  it ; 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  29 

but,  for  the  most  part,  company  laughter  is 
forced.  It  is  a  made-up,  artificial  thing,  or  else 
too  slight  and  decorous  to  be  hearty  and  ade 
quate.  But  when  the  spirit  of  fun  gets  into 
one  when  all  alone  by  himself  to  such  an  extent 
as  to  fairly  possess  him,  and  he  sits  down  and 
puts  his  hands  against  his  sides,  and  opens  his 
mouth,  and  begins  to  sway  backward  and 
forward  until  his  eyes  rain  with  mirth,  and 
he  fairly  wrestles  inwardly  with  his  hilarity ; 
then  his  laughter  is  the  genuine  thing.  We  live 
within-doors  too  much  to  be  happy.  Life 
becomes  too  much  of  a  routine,  an  exhibition 
of  one  and  the  same  experience.  We  should 
seek  more  variety.  We  should  open  ourselves 
up  to  the  exhilaration  of  incident.  We  should 
go  forth  and  stand  in  the  midst  of  many 
objects,  and  rejoice  our  eyes  with  varied  sights 
and  court  contact  with  the  accidental  and  the 
romantic. 

In  this  way  we  should  find  refreshment;  our 
days  would  tingle  with  novel  sensations,  and  we 
should  go  to  our  homes  at  night  as  bees  fly  to 
their  hives,  having  visited  a  dozen  fields,  and 
drawn  the  sweetness  from  a  thousand  flower- 


30  A   PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

cups.  In  tliis  way  we  should  become  thor 
oughly  healthy ;  and  health  is  something  of 
which  we  have  all  heard,  but  which  few  have 
ever  had.  They  say  there  is  such  a  thing ! 
Doctors  tell  us  of  it,  and  we  pay  them  for 
the  news,  —  that  is  all.  Life  means  eating  and 
sleeping.  He  who  can't  eat  his  food  with  a 
relish,  —  and  a  goodly  amount  of  it,  too,  —  he 
who  can't  sleep  soundly  at  night  and  late 
in  the  morning,  does  not  know  what  living 
means.  Dyspepsia  is  a  bad  bedfellow.  The 
Florentines,  after  Dante  had  written  his  won 
derful  poem  called  "  The  Inferno,"  used  to  point 
him  out  as  he  passed  along  the  streets  of  the 
city,  saying,  "  There  goes  the  man  who  has  been 
to  hell."  A  dyspeptic  does  not  need  to  be  a 
poet  to  have  that  remark  made  of  him. 

But  how  glorious  is  man's  estate  after  he  has 
eaten  a  good  dinner  !  What  solid  dignity  he 
has  attained  !  What  a  satisfactory  sense  of  sub- 
stantialness  is  his  !  How  the  blessed  feeling  of 
fulness  adds  to  his  self-respect !  And  with  what 
an  unctuous  complacency  he  can  regard  his  fel 
low-men  !  A  full  stomach  is  the  very  mother 
of  sweetest  charity.  Our  fathers  had  the 


OUTDOOR   LIFE.  31 

insane  idea  that  early  rising  was  proper ;  but 
our  fathers  —  worthy  men  as  they  were  —  had 
their  delusions,  and  were  victims  of  misconcep 
tions.  They  lacked  experience,  and  most  of 
us  know  that  they  were  mistaken.  I  agree  with 
the  witty  Frenchman  who  said  that  "  The  only 
reason  why  a  man  should  wake  up,  was  found 
in  the  fact  that  it  enabled  him  to  roll  over  and 
go  to  sleep  a  gain  !  " 

The  trouble  of  it  is,  friends,  people  do  not 
know  how  to  appropriate  the  influences  of 
nature.  Most  people  know  enough  to  eat 
bread  when  it  is  on  the  table  in  front  of  them. 
But  how  to  cat  the  food  that  is  in  the  wind  and 
sunshine,  that  lurks  in  the  fragrance  of  the 
fields,  and  descends  in  manna  from  the  sky, 
they  are  ignorant.  They  are  so  artificial  that 
they  do  not  know  how  to  live  a  natural  life. 
They  go  at  nature  awkwardly.  The  life  at  sea 
side  hotels  and  at  mountain  resorts  is  too  often 
a  broad  farce.  No  wonder  that  the  humorist  and 
the  satirist  find  it  serviceable  for  their  purpose. 
Loafing  is  not  an  art ;  it  is  a  gift ;  and  one  of 
the  best  gifts  ever  bestowed  upon  man.  Indo 
lence  in  the  economy  of  nature  is  analogous  to 


32  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

sleep.  A  man  don't  need  to  be  lazy  all  the 
while,  but  off  and  on  as  it  were ;  and  by  spells  ; 
and  the  spells  shouldn't  be  too  far  apart.  I've 
seen  men  in  the  woods  that  were  as  much  out 
of  place  as  a  buzz-wheel  in  church.  They  took 
their  activity  there ;  they  took  their  energy 
there ;  they  took  their  anxieties  there.  They 
were  always  running  from  spot  to  spot ;  always 
in  full  swoop.  They  never  found  a  perch  nor 
settled  down.  Now,  the  human  system  is  like 
an  engine ;  it  can  run  fast,  run  far,  run  long. 
It  can  do  royal  service  and  perform  manifold 
ministries.  But  there  comes  a  time  when  it 
must  be  slowed  up  and  run  into  the  shop  for 
repairs. 

Now,  among  all  the  experiences  of  outdoor 
life  —  happy  and  grateful  as  they  are  —  not  one 
is  more  satisfactory  than  that  of  sleeping  when 
your  bed  is  made  under  the  pines,  or  on  the 
shore  of  still  lakes,  or  the  banks  of  murmuring 
streams.  Night  invites  you  to  repose,  and 
slumber  with  gentle  movement  takes  you  to 
her  embrace,  as  a  mother  lifts  her  drowsy  child 
to  the  cradle  of  her  bosom. 

What  a  luxury  such  sleep  is,  and  how  little 


OUTDOOR   LIFE. 

of  the  real  quality  we  have  in  the  cities ! 
Imagine  your  bed-chamber  of  odorous  bark,  and 

O  J 

your  bed  of  pungent  boughs.  Your  couch 
made  under  murmuring  trees  and  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  lazily  moving  water,  whose  motions 
caress  rather  than  chafe  the  shore.  Stretched 
your  full  length  on  such  a  couch,  spread  in  such 
a  place,  the  process  of  falling  asleep  becomes  an 
experience.  You  lie  and  watch  yourself  to  ob 
serve  the  gradual  departure  of  your  senses. 
Little  by  little  you  feel  yourself  passing  away. 
Slowly  and  easily  as  an  ebbing  tide  you  begin 
to  pass  into  the  dim  and  insensible  realm  beyond 
the  line  of  feeling;.  At  last  a  moment  comes  in 

o 

which  you  know  you  are  passing  over  the  very 
verge  of  consciousness.  You  are  aware  that 
you  are  about  to  fall  asleep.  Your  cheek  but 
partially  interprets  the  cool  pressure  of  the 
night  wind  ;  your  ears  drowsily  surrender  the 
lingering  murmur  of  beach  and  pine ;  your 
eyes  droop  their  lids  little  by  littlq ;  your  nose 
slightly  senses  the  odor  of  the  piny  air,  as  you 
mechanically  draw  it  in  ;  the  chest  falls  as  it 
passes  as  mechanically  out,  and  then  —  you  are 
asleep. 


34  A  PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

The  hours  pass,  and  still  you  sleep  on.  The 
body,  in  obedience  to  some  occult  law  of  force 
within  the  insensible  frame,  still  keeps  up  its 
respirations  ;  but  you  are  somewhere  —  sleep 
ing.  At  last  the  pine  above  you,  in  the  deep 
hush  which  precedes  the  coming  of  dawn,  stills 
its  monotone,  and  silence  weaves  its  airy  wreb 
amid  the  motionless  stem.  The  water  falls 
asleep.  The  loon's  head  is  under  its  spotted 
wing,  and  the  owl  becomes  mute.  The  deer 
has  left  the  shore,  and  lies  curved  in  its  mossy 
bed.  The  rats  no  longer  draw  their  tiny  wake 
across  the  creek,  and  the  frogs  have  ceased  their 
croaking.  All  is  quiet.  In  the  profound  quiet, 
and  unconscious  of  it  all,  the  sleeper  sleeps. 
What  sleep  such  sleeping  is  !  and  what  a  ministry 
is  being  ministered  unto  mind  and  body  through 
the  cool,  pure  air,  pungent  with  gummy  odors 
and  strong  with  the  smell  of  the  sod  and  the 
root-laced  mould  of  the  underlying  earth ! 

We  wear  out  too  fast,  friends,  in  this  country. 
We  value  ourselves  too  much  as  if  we  were  bits 
of  machinery.  Our  lives  ascend  like  the  rocket 
—  suddenly  explode  and  leave  darkness.  They 
should  rise  like  the  sun  in  gradual  ascension. 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  35 

and  decline  with  the  even  movement  of  unex 
hausted  powers  passing  on  into  other  realms. 
The  problem  of  the  next  thirty  years,  in  this 
country,  is  not  one  of  money-making,  or  of 
mind-making,  or  of  soul-making,  but  the 
problem  is  one  that  underlies  all  these,  and 
on  the  proper  solution  of  which  they  all 
depend  —  it  is  body-making.  The  births  of 
the  future  must  be  healthy  births.  What 
is  the  use  of  bringing  cripples  into  the 
world,  whether  they  are  crippled  in  limb,  in 
stomach,  in  size  and  formation  of  the  chest,  or 
in  the  blood-system  ?  As  a  country,  we  are  giv 
ing  birth  to  a  monstrous  number  of  idiots  and 
weaklings,  and  of  incipient,  embryo  criminals. 
We  can't  afford  to  keep  on  taxing  our  indus 
tries  with  their  support,  imperilling  society  with 
their  violence,  or  burdening  our  sympathies  with 
their  presence.  Healthy  parentage  is  a  solution 
of  this  problem.  You  can't  expect  that  nervous 
motherhood  and  fevered  fatherhood  will  ever 
stand  parents  to  healthy  offspring.  The  laws  of 
life,  about  which  the  average  man  and  woman 
are  so  ignorant,  should  be  taught  and  obeyed  as 
the  ten  commandments,  for  the  next  fifty  years. 


36  A   PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

From  the  great  outdoors  of  God  —  pure  air, 
strong  wind,  warm  sunshine,  plain  diet,  restful 
periods  of  time,  and  the  religious  sensitiveness 
which  is  closely  connected  with  these  influences 
of  Nature,  —  from  these  must  come  our  salva 
tion.  If  we  would  brick  up  the  Hues  of  our 
furnaces  and  put  the  old-fashioned  fire-place,  or 
even  the  open  grate,  into  the  rooms  of  our 
houses,  wre  would  prove  by  that  act  that  our 
civilization,  at  least,  isn't  stupid,  and  that  we 
are  too  sensible  to  pay  men  for  killing  us  with 
their  infernal  inventions. 

The  prime  object  of  architecture  should  be  to 
bring  as  much  of  the  outdoors  as  is  possible 
withln-doors.  Many  American  houses  are  more 
like  ornamental  prisons  than  places  of  happy 
residence.  We  furnish  our  parlors  with  every 
thing  but  fresh  air  and  sunshine.  We  should 
have  more  glass  in  our  windows  and  screen 
them  less  with  heavy  draperies.  You  can't 
import  an  Axminster  so  fine,  or  a  damask  from 
Lyons  so  rich,  or  a  Persian  rug  so  gorgeous, 
that  a  streak  of  warm  sunshine  on  the  floor  is 
not,  for  the  purposes  of  health  and  happiness, 
worth  them  all.  No  colored  marble,  or  massive 


orrnoou  LIFK.  37 

carving  of  oak  and  walnut,  can  make  good  to 
the  family  life  the  fireplace  of  our  fathers. 
How  pure  and  sweet  is  the  air  of  a  room  thus 
ventilated  !  How  merry  the  play  of  sparks  and 
the  crackling  of  brands;  how  cheerful  the 
glowing  coals  ;  how  pure  the  whitened  ash ; 
how  genial  the  issuing  warmth.  Our  sleeping 
apartments  are  often  more  like  cells  than  cham 
bers.  The  moment  you  get  below  a  certain 
level  of  wealth  in  our  cities,  the  chambers  in 
which  men  and  women  sleep  are  filled  with  an 
atmosphere  dense,  damp,  and  vitiated  by  being 
repeatedly  breathed.  Those  of  us  who  have 
lived  in  camp,  who  have  slept  for  weeks  under 
the  sky.  with  the  delicious  night  winds  blowing 
the  odor  of  lily  and  pine  into  our  nostrils,  can 
recall  what  a  smothering  sensation  we  experi 
enced  the  first  night  we  were  compelled  to  sleep 
in  the  chamber  of  a  house.  What  a  pity  that 
men  will  stint  themselves  of  the  free  air  and 
lock  themselves  in  from  the  bright  sunshine, 
when  God  has  filled  the  world  lavishly  with 
both.  And,  above  all.  what  a  pity  that  men 
will  allow  their  characters  to  be  shaped  by 
influences  which  contract  and  warp  them,  when 


38  A   PREPARATORY    CHAPTER. 

round  about  on  all  sides  influences  have  been 
provided  calculated  to  make  them  wide,  gener 
ous,  and  symmetrical. 

The  brightest  sign  of  the  times  is  the  fact 
that  men  and  women  are  beginning  to  turn 
their  faces  toward  the  country,  and  in  the  good 
old-fashioned  way,  too.  They  are  beginning  to 
long  for  easier  lives,  for  quietness  and  the 
absence  of  parade.  The  gilded  bells  on  the 
king's  fool  are  not  called  music  in  the  palace 
to-day,  and  the  gaudy  tinsel  of  his  habit  is  no 
longer  admired.  It  is  a  hopeful  sign  when  the 
wealthy  merchant  goes  back  to  his  ancestral 
home,  to  the  little  farm  where  he  was  born,  and 
finds  enjoyment  in  once  more  holding  the  plough 
and  mowing  the  meadow  ;  finds  delight  in  his 
sleek  oxen,  his  fine-bred  colt,  and  his  herd  of 
Jerseys.  It  is  a  healthful  sign  when  the  woman 
of  fashion  leaves  her  Saratogas  at  home,  and, 
tucking  a  few  necessary  articles  of  comfortable 
clothing  into  her  valise,  starts  with  her  husband 
for  a  two  months'  trip  in  the  Adirondacks,  or  a 
month's  camping  and  yachting  on  Lake  Cham- 
plain.  It's  a  healthful  sign  when  our  young 
men  take  to  boating  and  ball-playing,  when 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  39 

the  pliant  rod  becomes  a  fascination,  and  the 
long-range  rille  a  delight.  It  is  a  hopeful  sign 
when  our  young  ladies  are  seen  studying  flori 
culture,  learning  to  sit  a  saddle  properly, 
acquiring  suppleness  of  limb  on  graceful  skates, 
and  laughingly  facing  after  dinner  a  four  miles' 
tramp.  It  is  a  hopeful  sign  when  in  en  are 
beginning  to  ask  themselves  why  the  old  fire 
place  was  banished  and  to  demand  its  restora 
tion  ;  to  ask  why  the  windows  of  their  dwelling 
are  drawn  by  the  architect  so  small,  and  why 
parlors  are  made  so  irloomy,  more  fit  for  the 

O  *J    7 

residence  of  a  hermit  than  a  happy-hearted 
man.  These  are  the  bright  evidences,  the  rosy 
tints  Hushing  with  delicate  warmth  the  sky, 
which  declare  that  the  dawn  of  a  new  day  is  at 
hand;  a  dav  in  which  we  shall  «;et  back  to  the 

•J  O 

simplicity  of  nature,  shall  put  a  proper  value 
upon  the  charm  of  quietness,  shall  bring  the 
light  and  purity  of  the  outdoor  world  into  our 
houses,  ay,  and  into  our  souls  too. 

The  future  will  be  wiser  and  better  than  we 
have  been.  It  will  be  more  frank,  more  gen 
uine,  more  manly  and  womanly.  The  men  and 
women  of  the  future  will  be  so  sir  oner  in  these 


40  A   PREPARATORY   CHAPTER. 

virtues  that  they  will  have  no  motive  to  be 
hypocrites.  Society  will  gauge  people  by  what 
they  are  intrinsically,  and  not  by  what  their 
fathers  gave  them,  or  they  themselves  have 
acquired,  of  material  gain  and  artificial  honor. 
By  and  by  we  shall  stop  building  houses,  and  go 
to  building  homes.  Houses  can  be  made  of 
mortar  and  brick,  of  marble  and  polished 
woods,  but  home  can  be  made  only  from  sun 
shine,  from  pure  air,  from  -flowers  in  the  win 
dows,  from  good  health  and  contented  minds. 
The  architects  of  the  next  century  will  take  up 
the  plans  of  our  dwellings,  will  examine  our 
tenement  houses  and  say,  "  How  could  men  and 
women  have  lived  in  such  places  ?  How  could 
they  have  slept  in  such  chambers  ?  Where  could 
the  sunshine  and  pure  air  they  needed  have 
come  from  ?  How  could  their  women  have 
climbed  so  many  stairs  ?  How  could  their 
lungs  have  stood  the  dust  of  their  furnaces  ? 
Where  were  the  playgrounds  for  the  children?" 
They  will  read  of  our  social  habits,  peruse  the 
stories  of  our  hypocrisies,  of  our  frauds  and  our 
shams,  and  exclaim, "  How  could  they  have  been 
so  insincere,  so  pretentious,  so  artificial  in  their 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  41 

standards  of  judgment  and  tlieir  action  ?  "  They 
will  examine  the  methods  of  our  cooking,  and  ex 
claim,  "'*  How  could  men  and  women  eat  such 
stuff  ?  "  Our  social  habits  will  be  inspected,  and 
it  will  be  the  marvel  of  the  future  that  women 
should  wear  such  dresses,  and  men  drink  such 
liquors  as  we  do.  For  the  time  is  coming  when 
common-sense  shall  be  fashion,  the  frankness 
of  truth  be  custom,  and  the  simplicity  of  nature 
the  rule. 

Hail  to  that  future  !  when  all  that  is  beautiful, 
frank,  and  true  in  the  outdoor  realm  ;  all  that  is 
mirthful,  genuine,  and  grand  in  what  God  has 
made,  shall  be  introduced  into  the  homes  of  the 
world,  and  imitated  in  the  lives  of  those  who 
shall  then  live,  and  who  shall  be  happy  in  their 
living;- 


LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 


PART   I. 

THE  TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD. 


CIIAMPLAIX,  the  man,  was  the  last  of  a  long 
line  of  navigators,  explorers,  and  heroes,  who, 
with  a  courage  that  was  of  the  highest  and  a 
perseverance  that  never  faltered  for  two  hun 
dred  years,  sought  for  one  thing  —  the  North 
west  passage.  Champlain,  the  lake,  marks  the 
westernmost  point  of  their  progress  in  their 
heroic  seeking.  With  Champlain  the  long  line 
ended.  And  here,  in  his  discovery  of  the  lake, 
the  long  seeking  of  the  ancient  mariners  to 
find,  by  sailing  westward,  the  passage  to 
Cathay,  ended  also.  Looking  backward  from 
Champlain,  what  a  vista !  looking  onward 
from  Champlain,  what  a  history  !  Since  Cham- 
plain,  there  have  been  wars,  revolutions,  the 


44  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 


birth  of  a  mighty  government  and  a  developing 
civilization  to  which  the  history  of  this  lake 
furnishes  a  key.  Before  Champlain  there  were 
myths,  traditions,  legends,  and  suggestive 
murmurings  of  knowledge  disbelieved  for  a 
thousand  years. 

EARLY    TRADITIONS    OF    AMERICA. 

For  the  mouth  of  antiquity  was  not  silent 
in  respect  to  this  western  world  of  ours. 
Hesiod,  with  his  finger  on  the  sounding  chord, 
sang  of  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides  and 
poured  his  prophetic  song  out  into  the  otherwise 
stirless  gloom  that  hung  darkly  above  the 
western  sea.  Plato  in  faultless  prose  told  the 
story  of  Atlantis,  that  mystical  island  far 
beyond  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  as  his  ancestor 
Solon  had  received  it  from  the  lips  of  the  old 
Egyptian  priests  of  Sais,  who  held  for  truth, 
beyond  doubt,  what  modern  savants,  because  of 
their  ignorance  perhaps,  have  looked  upon  as  a 
myth  and  a  mythical  catastrophe.  The  Phoeni 
cian  sailors  swore  that  their  eyes  had  seen  a  fair 
and  lovely  country  lying  low  down  in  the  west 
ern  waves,  and  Carthaginian  mariners  indorsed 


TRADITIONAL   AXD    HISTORIC   PERIOD.  45 

the  story  and  declared  that  their  prows 
had  touched  the  golden  sands  of  unknown 
islands  in  unknown  seas,  whose  airs  were  soft 
and  sweet  with  breath  of  spice  and  balm.  And 
Pytheas,  a  sailor  of  Old  Greece  in  the  time  of 
Alexander  the  Great,  told  to  the  wondering 
Mediterranean  gossips  of  a  country  lying  to  the 
north  and  west,  beyond  the  confines  of  the 
world,  whose  shores  were  solid  ice  and  whose 
men  were  clothed  like  animals.  And  Madoc 
of  Wales — so  say  the  bards  —  brought  back 
from  voyages  strange  stories  of  strange  lands 
beyond  the  sunset,  and,  sailing  forth  again  with 
many  ships  and  men,  came  not  back,  neither 
he.  his  ships,  nor  his  men,  but  were  swallowed  up 
by  monsters  or  sunk  beneath  the  fateful  waves, 
being  punished  because  he  sailed  beyond  the 
seas  of  God.  The  airs  of  the  old  world  fairly 
pulse  and  throb  with  stirring  myth  and  dark, 
weird  tales  and  clear-sounding  prophecy  of 
blessed  isles  and  fragrant  lands  where  dwelt  the 
gods  beyond  the  sunset  and  the  sunset  sea. 

Then  come  the  Norsemen  —  those  brave  sea- 
bees  who  swarmed  out  of  the  stormy  north 
seeking  the  honey .  of  plunder.  They  swept 


46  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

down  upon  England,  Belgium,  and  Normandy, 
and,  buzzing  far  and  near,  pushed  their  fearless 
flight  as  far  as  Sicily  and  Southern  Italy. 
Then  they  turned  northward  and  in  874  drew 
the  line  of  their  flight  as  far  as  Iceland,  six 
hundred  miles  from  their  Norwegian  hive,  in 
the  wild  northern  seas.  In  1874,  the  descend 
ants  of  these  old  Sea  Kings  of  the  North  cele 
brated  not  the  centennial  but  the  millennial  anni 
versary  of  their  settlement  in  Iceland. 

From  Iceland  to  Greenland  is  scant  two 
hundred  miles.  These  old  Norse  sailors  were 
brave  and  cared  no  more  for  wave  and  tempest 
than  the  stormy  petrel.  We  know  that  King 
Olaf's  ship,  the  Long  Serpent,  was  a  hundred 
and  forty  feet  from  stem  to  stern,  and  that 
many  of  their  vessels  carried  full  twTo  hundred 
men.  With  such  ships  such  men  could  go  any 
where  and  laugh  —  as  the)7  did,  as  they  rolled 
over  them  and  through  it  --  at  billows  and 
storm.  And  in  985  Erik  the  Red,  with  twenty- 
five  ships,  set  sail  for  Greenland.  He  doubled 
Cape  Farewell  and  planted  a-  colony  on  the 
eastern  coast  and  called  it  Eriksfiord.  For 
four  hundred  years  Greenland  was  a  see  of 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.  47 

papal  Rome,  and  the  names  of  seventeen  suc 
cessive  bishops  can  be  read  on  the  records  of 
Holy  Church.  The  colony  throve,  and  where 
to-day  is  barren  land  and  inhospitable  ice,  three 
hundred  farms  and  villages  once  flourished. 

In  the  Sagas  it  is  written  that  in  996  Biarne 
Herjulfson,  a  son  of  Herjulf,  a  Norse  navigator, 
sailing  from  Iceland  to  Greenland,  was  blown  by 
storm  far  west,  and  sighted,  amid  the  fogs  that 
swathed  it,  a  Newfoundland.  He  did  not  land, 
but  hurried  back  and  told  the  news  to  those  at 
home.  The  story  stirred  the  very  souls  of  those 
Norse  seamen,  and  four  years  later,  in  the  year 
1000,  Leif  Erikson,  with  a  stout  ship  well 
manned,  sailed  forth  to  test  the  story  that 
Herjulfson  had  told.  They  reached  an  island 
-  Newfoundland,  doubtless  —  and  called  it 
Helluland,  and  then  a  wooded  coast  —  Nova 
Scotia  —  and  named  it  Markland.  Then  they 
sailed  southward  for  two  days  with  fair  wind, 
and  sighted  land  and  went  ashore.  It  was  a 
pleasant  land,  and  where  they  landed  the  wild 
grapes  hung  thick  from  vines  that  made  the 
trees  their  arbor  railing,  and  in  their  joy  they 
called  the  country  Vinland.  On  this  shore  they 


48  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

wintered  and  thus  the  coast  of  Massachusetts 
first  knew  the  white  man.  All  this  four 
hundred  years  before  Columbus. 

Then  followed  Thorwald,  brother  of  Leif 
Erikson,  in  1002.  .  For  three  years  he  dwelt  in 
Vinland  until  war  arose  between  him  and  the 
natives,  and  in  battle  he  was  killed.  And  so 
the  long  contest  that  is  not  wholly  ended  yet, 
although  a  thousand  years  have  nearly  passed, 
between  the  white  man  and  the  red  for  the 
possession  of  the  continent  began,  and  the  old 
Norseman  sailor  and  sea-king  was,  perhaps,  the 
first  white  man  that  fell  —  the  first  fruit  of 
that  harvest  of  death  that  the  red  sickles  of 
war  for  all  these  eight  hundred  and  eighty-eight 
years  have  been  busily  reaping. 

Then  came  others,  both  men  and  women,  to 
the  same  shore,  and  with  them  they  brought 
cattle  and  sheep,  and  made  a  brave  effort  to 
plant  themselves  in  the  country.  But  the 
natives  fought  them,  and  pirate  hordes  invaded 
Greenland  itself ;  and  later,  a  plague,  called  the 
Black  Death,  swept  over  Europe  and  Scandi 
navia  like  a  wave  of  desolation,  and  the  colony 
or  colonies  in  Massachusetts  perished  and 
eventually  passed  from  the  minds  of  men. 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          49 
THE    OLD-TIME    MARINERS. 

Then  came  John  Cabot  and  his  son  Sebastian. 
The  Cabots  were  of  Venice,  —  City  of  the  sea, 
-  whose  streets  are  rivers  and  whose  carriages 
are  boats.  There  was  John  Cabot  born  and 
reared  amid  gondolas  and  gondoliers  —  ships 
whose  sails  were  colored  silk  and  whose  com 
manders  were  proud  as  Doges.  The  dream  of 
sea-going  Venice  was  ever  of  the  West  and 
of  undiscovered  lands  beyond  the  setting  sun, 
of  which  old  sailors  for  a  thousand  years  had 
told  strange  stories.  In  1490  the  Cabots  made 
home  in  Bristol,  England  —  whether  banished 
out  of  Venice  or  having  journeyed  forth  of  their 
own  free  will,  I  know  not.  But  being  in 
Bristol,  King  Henry  VII. ,  anxious  to  win  his 
share  of  undiscovered  lands  and  gains,  gave 
him  permission  to  traffic  in  foreign  parts,  on 
condition  that  the  Crown  should  have  one-fifth 
of  all  the  profits  ;  and  so  the  old  Venetian,  in 
1497,  sailed  out  of  the  Bristol  Channel,  hoping 
to  find  a  western  passage  to  the  kingdom  of 
Cathay  or  China.  Having  sailed  west  by  north 
seven  hundred  leagues,  as  he  computed,  he  came 


50  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

upon  the  coast  of  Labrador,  which  he  supposed 
to  be  the  eastern  shore  of  China.  He  landed 
and  planted  the  Royal  Standard  and  named  the 
country  Prima  Vista.  Then  did  the  flag  of 
England  first  wave  above  the  continent,  and 
the  brave  man  who  flung  its  red  folds  to 
the  breeze  was  born  in  ancient  Venice  and 
learned  the  art  of  sailing  ships  upon  the  tide- 
less  sea.  From  Labrador  he  sailed  southward 
along  the  coast  six  hundred  miles,  and  then 
returned  to  Bristol.  The  king  gave  him  a  pen 
sion,  and  empowered  him  to  "  impress  six 
English  ships,  and  sailors  enough  to  man  them, 
and  go  forth  again  and  make  farther  search  for 
the  Northwest  passage."  But  for  some  cause 
the  expedition  never  sailed;  and  of  John  Cabot 
we  know  no  more.  "He  gave  England"  —as 
a  writer  has  said  —  "a  continent,  and  no  one  of 
all  the  English  race  knows  his  burial-place." 
All  this  a  full  year  before  Columbus  saw  the 
mainland  of  America. 

The  next  year,  1498,  his  son  Sebastian,  with 
two  ships,  sailed  from  England  for  China  and 
Japan,  still  seeking  the  Northwest  passage. 
He  sailed  far  up  what  we  know  as  Davis's 


TRADITIONAL   AND    HISTORIC    PERIOD.  51 

Straits,  in  the  month  of  July,  1498,  and  was, 
probably,  the  first  white  man  that  ever  saw  the 
marvel  of  twenty-four  hours  of  continuous  day 
light.  We  can  imagine  the  wonder  that  filled 
thu  souls  of  these  old  mariners  as  they  sailed 
onward  day  after  day,  without  an  evening  and 
without  a  night.  Then  came  the  icebergs, 
floating  down  like  mountain  ranges  upon  him, 
and  he  wore  ship  and  sailed  steadily  southward, 
still  searching  along  the  coast  for  the  North 
west  passage,  until  he  came  to  Chesapeake  Bay. 
Nineteen  years  later,  in  1017,  Sebastian  entered 
the  bay  to  which  a  century  later  Henry  Hudson 
gave  his  name,  and  thence,  in  subsequent 
voyages,  explored  the  coast  of  South  America 
as  far  as  La  Plata ! 

The  great  fact  to  remember  in  this  connec 
tion  is  that  it  was  in  virtue  of  these  discoveries 
of  the  two  Cabots — father  and  son  —  that 
England  laid  claim  to  all  or  nearly  all  of  the 
North  American  continent.  Strange  that  in 
all  their  searching  they  never  found  the  mouth 
of  the  St.  Lawrence.  We  now  come  to  that. 

Daring  all  these  years  France  had  not  be 
stirred  herself  to  find  new  worlds  or  claim  a 


52  LAKE   CIIAMPLALN". 

share  of  those  already  found.  But  at  last 
Francis  I.  aroused  himself  and  said,  "  Shall 
Spain,  Portugal,  and  England  divide  all 
America  between  them  and  give  me  no  share  ? 
I  would  like  to  see  the  clause  in  Father  Adam's 
will  which  bequeaths  that  vast  inheritance  to 
them." 

There  was,  at  that  time,  in  France  a  Floren 
tine,  skilled  in  navigation,  named  Verazzano, 
and  him  Francis  sent  forth  to  make  discoveries. 
He  landed  first  at  Chesapeake  Bay,  and  then 
sailing  northward  .along  the  same  course  which 
the  Cabots  had  previously  sailed,  named  the 
whole  country,  whose  coast  he  had  skirted  only, 
New  France,  and  claimed  it  for  Francis.  At 
this  point  we  see  the  conflicting  claims  of 
France  and  England  spring  up  side  by  side,  and 
the  cause  of  the  long  and  bloody  wars  between 
them  for  the  possession  of  the  continent  is  seen. 
In  1523  the  strife  really  began  —  a  strife  that 
never  ceased  until  Wolfe  brought  it  to  a  close 
two  hundred  and  thirty-two  years  after  on  the 
Plains  of  Abraham. 

When  we  remember  the  size  of  the  vessels  in 
which  these  vast  voyages  and  astonishing  dis- 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.         53 

coveries  were  made,  the  mind  is  filled  with  as 
tonishment.  Jacques  Carrier's  ships  ranged 
from  sixty  down  to  fifteen  tons  measurements. 
Martin  Frobisher,  that  stout  old  English  mari 
ner,  pushed  northward  to  the  Lay  that  bears 
his  name,  in  a  ship  —  if  such  a  large-sounding 
word  may  be  used  to  describe  so  small  a  boat  — 
of  only  five  and  twenty  tons!  In  1553,  Sir 
Hugh  Willoughby,  in  a  bark  of  scarce  a  hun 
dred  tons,  seeking  the  path  to  China,  sailed  into 
a  Lapland  harbor,  and  there  cast  anchor  for 
ever.  For  the  next  year  he  and  all  his  crew 
were  found  in  their  floating  sepulchre,  frozen 
stiff  and  solid  as  marble.  Sir  Humphrey  Gil 
bert,  half-brother  to  Raleigh,  and  of  the  same 
heroic  spirit,  sailing  homeward  from  the  New 
foundland  coast,  was  overtaken  by  a  great 
tempest.  His  ship  was  called  the  Squirrel,  of 
ten  tons  burden,  and',  sitting  in  the  stern-sheets 
as  night  came  down  upon  the  seething  sea,  with 
his  Bible  on  his  knees,  he  called  aloud  to  the 
crew  of  his  consort  sailing  by  his  side,  and  said, 
"  Fear  not,  comrades,  Heaven  is  as  near  by  sea 
as  by  land."  And,  saying  this,  he  disappeared 
from  sight. 


54  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

Henry  Hudson,  in  1009,  in  a  little  craft  of 
thirty  tons,  called  the  Half  Moon,  seeking,  like 
all  others,  a  way  to  China,  penetrated  the 
depths  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and  wintered  amid 
its  awful  cold.  In  the  spring,  he,  with  his  son 
and  seven  other  faithful  souls,  were  turned 
adrift  by  his  mutinous  crew,  and  never  again 
were  they  heard  nor  seen  bv  men.  The  mighty 

\J  iJ  O         J 

sheet  of  water  that  bears  his  name  is  both  his 
grave  and  monument. 

In  1G03  Samuel  Champlain,  in  two  little 
barks,  of  twclre  and  fifteen  tons  burden,  pushed 
boldly  out  from  the  French  coast,  crossed  the 
Atlantic  safely,  and  returned  to  prepare  another 
voyage ! 

During  all  this  period  of  knowledge  and  igno 
rance  both  —  knowledge  on  the  part  of  those 
who  had  sailed  and  seen  ;  ignorance  on  the  part 
of  those  who  had  stayed  steadfastly  at  home, 
made  books  and  read  them,  and  knew  nothing 
save  what  their  narrow,  local,  and  egotistic 
knowledge  of  their  own  country  and  literature 
gave  them :  a  period  covering  a  thousand 
years  at  least  —  the  fated  lake  now  known  as 
Lake  Champlain  lay  stretched  between  its 


TRADITIONAL   AXI)   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          55 

amphitheatre  of  hills  like  some  ancient  arena, 
awaiting,  through  the  still  dark  hours  of  night, 
the  coming  of  dawn,  the  struggle,  and  the 
audience.  We  say  fated  :  for  on  no  other  single 
body  of  water  on  the  globe,  so  far  as  known  to 
history  or  tradition,  have  so  many  battles  been 
fought,  so  many  brave  men  died,  such  mighty 
issues  been  settled  by  the  sword,  or  such  mo 
mentous  questions — as  judged  by  their  connec 
tion  with  the  government  and  development  of 
the  human  race  —  been  decided  by  the  arbitra 
ment  of  arms.  For  here  on  this  lake  the  two 
great  and  antagonistic  interpretations  of  Chris 
tianity  met.  in  the  armed  representatives  of  two 
warlike  races,  face  to  face,  and,  for  a  hundred 
years,  the  fierce  struggle  lasted  without  inter 
mission,  save  when,  at  intervals,  like  two  strong 
wrestlers,  equally  matched,  by  mutual  consent 
they  released  their  grip  each  on  the  other,  and 
stood  apart  for  a  space  to  renew  their  breath 
and  summon  up  their  powers  for  a  longer  and 
deadlier  'clinch.  For  it  must  be  remembered 
that  it  was  not  in  Germany  or  Geneva,  at  the 
Hague  or  among  the  mountains  of  Southern 
France,  that  Protestantism  gained  its  everlasting 


56  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

triumph  over  its  Papal  rival,  but  here  between 
the  Green  Mountains  and  the  Adirondack  peaks 
and  on  the  shores  and  waters  of  Lake  Chain- 
plain  was  the  final  and  decisive  contest  between 
these  two  mi^htv  and.  inherently  hostile  forces 

O         i>  *J 

waged  —  a  contest  which  gave  to  Protestant 
thought  and  its  resultant  liberty  the  civic  pos 
session  of  a  continent,  and,  through  its  develop 
ing  civilization,  inspired  by  its  own  genius,  the 
wealth,  the  commerce,  the  literatures,  the  gov 
ernment,  and  even  the  fashions  of  the  modern 
world.  Here  also,  on  this  lake,  the  feudal 
system,  which  was  both  the  body  and  soul  of  the 
Gallic  effort  in  America,  and  whose  ambition 
was  nothing  less  than  entire  possession  of  the 
country  from  the  Atlantic  coast  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  from  the  Southern  to  the 
Northern  Gulf,  after  a  century  of  struggle  and 
intrigue,  and  a  dozen  bloody  campaigns,  found 
its  Waterloo.  Nominally,  the  conflict  was  closed 
at  Quebec,  —  and  the  death  of  Wolfe  and  Mont- 
calm  both  on  that  fatal  field  of  Abraham 
Martin,  outside  the  walls  of  the  citadel,  natur 
ally  and  properly  gave  to  that  brief  engage 
ment  between  a  few  hundred  men  a  historic 


TRADITIONAL   AXD   HISTORIC   PERIOD.         57 

brilliancy  which  fixes  the  gaze  of  all  eyes  upon  its 
flashing  splendor.  But  the  great  French  leader 
knew  well  the  truth  and  told.it  plainly  when, 
a  year  and  more  before  he  fought  his  final  battle, 
he  warned  the  French  monarch  and  his  minister 
of  war  that  the  only  hope  for  France  to  keep 
her  hold  upon  the  continent  was  to  maintain 
her  grip  on  Lake  Champlain.  And  when  the 
flag  of  France  was  lowered,  at  Amherst's  resist 
less  advance,  at  Ticonderoga,  and  Crown  Point, 
it  was  then  decided  that  the  American  conti 
nent  was  to  be  the  home  of  an  English  Protes 
tant  civilization,  and  not  the  seat  of  a  Papal- 
Gallic  power.  And  if  the  student  of  American 
nationality  would  know  the  facts  of  its  history, 
he  must  not  begin  with  the  feeble  skirmish  at 
Lexington,  or  the  fierce  disorderly  fight  on 
Bunker  Hill,  but  come  to  this  lake,  for  on  it 
and  its  shores  he  will  easily  discover  that 
Bunker  Hill  would  never  have  been  fought  by 
the  men  whose  fierce  courage  and  knowledge  of 

O  o 

arms  made  it  historic,  had  they  not  learned  the 
deadly  use  of  weapons,  the  value  of  discipline, 
and  been  nurtured  in  martial  spirit  by  the  war 
like  culture  they  received  under  the  most  skilful 


58  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

and  bravest  generals  of  fighting  England,  in 
their  campaigns,  battles,  and  forays  against  the 
French  and  Indians  here  in  the  valley  of  Cham- 
plain. 

In  what  school  was  Schuyler  of  New  York 
trained  ?  Where  did  Putnam  of  Connecticut 
learn  to  fight  ?  Where  did  the  grit  of  Stark  of 
New  Hampshire  get  its  razor  edge  ?  Whence 
came  the  cannon  that  manned  the  works  of 
Washington  on  Dorchester  heights  and  enabled 
him  to  drive  the  British  out  of  Boston  ?  Fighting 
against  whom  and  where  did  New  England  and 
New  York  men  learn  the  use  of  arms,  the  habits 
of  obedience,  the  coolness  of  veterans  under  fire, 
and  that  indifference  to  numbers  which  more 
than  once  held  the  Revolutionary  army  together 
and  made  it  formidable  to  its  foe  ?  Here  it 
was,  here  on  Lake  Chainplain  and  its  connecting 
waters,  that  the  men  who  fought  so  bravely  under 
Prescott,  Putnam,  Stark,  Gates,  and  Washington 
learned  the  lesson  of  war  and  from  it,  as  a  mar 
tial  school,  graduated  as  veterans  for  the  Revolu 
tionary  struggle.  Is  it  not  a  most  strange 
thing  that  although,  nearly  three  centuries  have 
passed  since  the  curtain  was  lifted  and  the  first 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC    PERIOD.          59 

act  of  a  drama  to  which  a  hemisphere  supplied 
the  audience  and  in  whose  successive  scenes  the 
most  ambitious  kings,  astute  diplomats,  famous 
generals,  the  greatest  financiers,  and  the  most 
dauntless  spirits  of  Europe  and  England  were 
the  actors,  was  played,  there  is  not,  with  the 
exception  of  Mr.  Parkman's  little  silhouette  of 
the  subject  —  a  single  page  of  accurate  history 
written  ?  A  hundred  and  thirty-two  years  even 
have  come  and  gone  since  off  the  southeast 
point  of  Valcour  Island  the  last  French  flag 
that  waved  about  the  waters  of  Champlain  was 
lowered,  but  American  scholarship  has  in  all 
these  years  made  no  effort  to  collect  the  preg 
nant  and  impressive  facts  connected  with  the 
French  occupation  of  the  lake,  or  prevent  those 
precious  facts  from  drifting  on  the  slow  but 
ever-moving  current  of  time  into  oblivion. 

CHAMPLAIN. 

It  was  then,  as  the  last  of  a  long  line  of 
glorious  predecessors,  that  Champlain  came 
seeking,  as  all  before  him  had  done,  the  North 
west  passage.  None  braver  than  he  had  ever 
gone  before  him.  Twenty  times  did  he  cross 


60  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

the  Atlantic  —  once  in  a  shallop  of  sixteen  tons 
and  once  in  one  of  barely  twelve.  Verily,  he 
was  a  sailor  of  whom  the  bravest  of  the  old 
mariners  who  had  preceded  him  need  not  be 
ashamed.  In  this  mercenary  age  it  were  hard 
to  make  men  understand  the  motive  which  held 
him  to  his  performance  amid  perils  numberless 
and  incredible  labors.  For  he  was  not  ani 
mated  by  the  love  of  gold.  Wealth  he  never 
sought.  He  was  not  ambitious  of  lands  and 
feudal  sovereignties,  nor,  so  far  as  we  can  judge, 
was  he  even  ever  emulous  of  fame.  His  was 
the  adventurous  spirit,  the  seeking  soul,  the 
searching  mind,  the  eye  eager  to  see  new  sights, 
the  ear  that  longed  to  hear  strange  sounds,  and 
the  heart  that  craved  to  feel  those  fresh  emo 
tions  which  belong  to  the  child-world  and  the 
child-man.  There  was  within  him  a  rage  for 
knowledge.  To  see  the  waters  of  hitherto  un 
seen  seas  ;  to  inhale  the  wild  odors  of  savage 
woods,  never  breathed  by  man ;  to  stand  upon 
the  summits  of  untrodden  mountains;  to  hear 
the  plunge  of  mighty  waterfalls  deeply  hidden 
in  the  enveloping  forests ;  to  behold  the  glories 
of  sunrises  and  of  sunsets  such  as  dwellers  in 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC    PERIOD.         61 

cities  never  see  ;  to  experience  the  unusual,  the 
extraordinary,  and  the  marvellous  ;  in  short,  an 
unquenchable  thirst  for  discovery  was  the  ani 
mating  motive  in  the  bosom  of  Charnplain.  He 
was  neither  warrior,  nor  missionary,  nor  trader, 
nor  scientist.  His  inspiration  was  not  of  the 
sword  nor  of  the  cross.  Wealth  he  contemplated 
with  indifferent  eyes.  To  found  a  family  or 
establish  an  empire  he  never  dreamed.  But  to 
sail,  to  see,  to  hear,  to  feel,  to  know  the  joy  of 
knowing  what  others  knew  not  and  of  feeling 
what  others  never  felt  -  -  this  to  Samuel 
Chainplain  was  life. 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    LAKE. 

It  was  the  3d  of  July,  1609,  when  Cham- 
plain  first  gazed  upon  the  lake  which  subse 
quently  bore  his  name,  and  which  to-day  is  the 
sole  monument  that  perpetuates  his  fame.  We 
do  not  know  certainly  the  exact  hour,  but  it 
was  early  in  the  morning  when  the  canoe  which 
bore  him  glided  out  from  between  the  over 
hanging  maples  and  cedars  which  lined  either 
bank  of  the  Richelieu,  and  entered  the  broader 
waters  of  the  lake.  The  spectacle  which  met 


62  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

liis  eyes  was  one  which  brought  exclamations  of 
astonishment  from  his  mouth,  and  as  his  canoe 
swept  onward  over  the  level  water  new  beauties 
and  wider  expanses  of  natural  loveliness  broke 
upon  his  view.  Even  then  he  was  a  world-wide 
traveller.  He  had  visited  Mexico,  Vera  Cruz, 
and  Panama.  The  luxuriant  loveliness  of  the 
tropics  and  the  more  sober  beauties  of  semi-tropi 
cal  regions  were  familiar  to  him.  He  had  seen 
the  best  that  the  continent  of  Europe  had  to 
show.  He  had  gazed  upon  the  green  meadows  of 
Acadia  and  the  awful  grandeurs  of  the  Saguenay. 
But  never  before  had  he  looked  upon  a  scene  of 
such  picturesque  beauty,  and  such  varied  loveli 
ness,  as  this  body  of  water  presented  to  his 
appreciative  eyes  as  it  lay  revealed  in  the  dewy 
light  of  this  warm  July  morning. 

Not  a  breath  was  moving  in  the  air.  The 
lake,  between  its  widening  shores,  stretched 
before  him  smooth  as  glass.  Through  it  the 
noiseless  paddles  moved  the  noiseless  bark  in 
which  he  stood  and  gazed.  Behind  him  came  the 
twenty-four  canoes,  silently  following  his  silent 
wake.  The  paddles  rose  and  sank  in  perfect 
unison.  The  ochred  faces  of  the  Indians  and 


TRADITIONAL   AND    HISTORIC    PERIOD.         63 

their  feathered  scalp-locks  showed  brilliantly  in 
the  morning  light.  The  air  was  odorous  with 
the  perfumes  of  gums  and  flowers.  Here  and 
there  lilies  starred  the  water  whitely.  Large 
fish  leaped,  splashed,  and  drove  their  sharpened 
wedge  of  motion  along  the  level  surface. 
Through  the  dewy  air  came  the  pure,  sweet  note 
of  the  hermit  thrush.  Far  overhead  the  hunting 
eagle,  sweeping  round  and  round  in  watchful  cir 
cles,  came  to  a  sudden  stop,  fluttered  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  with  rightly  balanced  poise,  drove  head 
long  downward  into  the  lake.  Ducks  blackened 
the  water  for  acres.  The  mother-does  watched 
the  playful  fawns  bounding  along  the  sand.  The 
lumbering  moose  waded  laboriously  shoreward, 
and  on  the  marshy  bank  stood  at  gaze.  Above, 
the  sky  was  sapphire.  Over  the  eastern  moun 
tains  the  sun  showed  redly.  The  mighty  woods 
came  to  the  water's  edge,  an  unbroken  mass  of 
natural  forest.  The  lake,  to  which  he  was  to 
give  his  name  while  living,  that  was  to  be  his 
everlasting  monument  when  dead,  welcomed  his 
entrance  between  her  shores  with  the  finest  ex 
pressions  of  her  loveliness.  Chainplain  had  come 
to  his  own,  and  his  own  received  him  gladly. 


64  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

Thus  they  passed  slowly  up  the  lake.  The 
time  that  it  took  to  make  the  passage  of  the 
lake  from  its  outlet  to  the  point  at  which  they 
fought  their  battle  with  the  Iroquois  proved 
that  the  party  not  only  moved  without  haste, 
but  that  Champlain,  according  to  his  custom, 
circumnavigated  its  islands  and  made  a  thor 
ough  exploration  of  its  shores.  For  he  entered 
it  on  the  3d  of  July?  and  it  was  the  29th 
of  the  month,  as  he  re'cords,  when,  paddling 
along  in  the  night,  his  party  ran  against  the 
Iroquois.  These  twenty-six  days  gave  him  suf 
ficient  time  to  examine  the  lake  carefully. 
This  he  undoubtedly  did.  Champlain  was  not 
only  a  soldier  and  a  navigator,  but  he  was  a 
sportsman  as  well,  a  tourist,  and  a  poet.  He 
loved  nature  for  nature's  sake.  He  did  not 
enter  this  lake  to  seek  gold  or  foes.  He  was 
seeking  the  Northwest  passage,  and  a  great 
water-course  to  the  west.  Strange  as  such  an 
idea  seems  to  us,  it  was  a  living  reality  to  him, 
as  it  had  been  to  all  the  old  mariners  before  him. 
Both  as  a  lover  of  nature  and  as  an  explorer, 
bent  on  his  romantic  search,  he  would  naturally 
move  slowly  through  the  great  water-course 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.         65 

which,  passing  out  from  the  mouth  of  the  Riche 
lieu,  he  saw  suddenly  in  long  and  glorious  per 
spectives  before  him. 

For  Champlain  was  then  as  now  a  lake  of 
wide  expanses  and  magnificent  distances.  It  is 
not  walled  into  trough-like  proportions  as  is 
Memphremagog,  nor  has  it  the  interruptions  or 
tame  appearances  of  Moosehead,  nor  is  it 
smothered  between  monstrous  mountains  so 
that  its  borders  straighten  and  oppress  it,  as  is 
the  case  with  the  Horicon.  But  it  is  long  and 
wide  and  spacious.  The  eye  ranges  along  per 
spectives  that  a  hundred  miles  do  not  measure, 
and  the  vistas  which  stretch  before  the  gazer, 
whether  of  water  or  of  land,  terminate  in  the 
vagueness  and  dimness  of  distance.  Lake 
Champlain  is  not  a  lake  that  can  be  seen  in  a 
day  or  in  a  week,  and  when  we  read  in  Cham- 
plain's  record  that  he  was  twenty-six  clays  in 
making  the  distance  between  the  outlet  and  the 
southernmost  point  of  his  exploration,  near 
Ticonderoga,  we  know,  instinctively,  how  the 
days  were  filled  with  labors  and  with  pleasures. 
For  neither  in  Nova  Scotia  nor  on  the  banks  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  from  Labrador  to  Lachine,  had 


66  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

he  ever  found  such  sport  as  the  waters,  the 
islands,  and  the  shores  of  this  lake  gave  him. 
In  his  journal  he  records  with  amazement  the 
quantity  and  size  of  the  fish  which  filled  the 
waters  of  the  lake  and  the  streams  flowing  into 
it.  And  lie  was  not  a  man  to  deny  himself  the 
pleasures  of  the  rod  or  of  the  <mn  when  game 

i  o  o 

was  plenty  and  the  hunger  of  many  justified  the 
sportsman's  privilege.  For  twenty-six  days  he 
shot  and  fished  to  his  heart's  content,  circum 
navigated  the  islands,  explored  the  shores,  ex 
amined  the  forests,  and  penetrated  the  rivers  in 
search  of  pleasure  and  of  knowledge.  Then  sud 
denly  his  habit  changed.  His  fishing  and  his 
hunting  ceased,  and  the  explorer  and  sportsman 
became  a  warrior.  For,  from  what  is  now  Apple- 
tree  Point  or  the  northern  shore  of  Burlington 
Bay,  the  Algonquin  chiefs  pointed  out  to  him  the 
significant  shaft  of  "  Mohawk  Rock,"  and  told 
him  that  when  they  passed  beyond  its  line  they 
were  within  the  country  of  the  terrible  Iroquois 
and  must  look  to  their  caution  and  their  cour 
age  for  preservation.  Champlain's  gala  day 
was  passed,  and  he  was  now  drawing  nigh  to  the 
saddest  day  for  him  and  France  that  either  ever 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.         67 

knew ;  the  day  when  he  should  shed  blood 
without  cause.  The  blood  of  that  United  Peo 
ple,  the  strongest  and  most  warlike  confederacy 
of  Red  men  on  the  continent,  and  of  whom 
the  fame  was  as  wide  as  their  sovereignty,  that 
they  never  forgot  a  friend  or  forgave  a  foe. 
Strange  fate  this  which  befell  the  just  and 
humane  Champlain ;  that,  stumbling  on,  in  his 
ignorance  of  Indian  politics  and  power,  he 
should,  by  one  blundering  shot,  on  the  shores  of 
this  lake  that  was  to  bear  his  name,  decide  the 
character  of  a  civilization,  and  forfeit  a  conti 
nent  to  France. 

The  picture  of  the  battle  between  Champlain 
and  his  allies  and  the  Iroquois  is  thus  drawn  by 
himself :  — 

"  BATTLE    WITH    THE    IROQUOIS. 

"  At  nightfall  we  embarked  in  our  canoes, 
and  as  we  were  advancing  noiselessly  onward 
we  encountered  a  war  party  of  Iroquois  at  the 
point  of  a  cape  which  juts  into  the  lake  on  the 
west  side.  It  was  on  the  29th  of  the  month 
and  about  ten  o'clock  at  night.  They  and  we 
began  to  shout,  seizing  our  arms.  We  with- 


68  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

drew  to  the  water,  and  the  Iroquois  paddled  to 
the  shore,  arranged  their  canoes,  and  began  to 
hew  down  trees  with  villainous-looking  axes 
and  fortified  themselves  very  securely.  Our 
party  kept'their  canoes  one  alongside  of  the  other, 
tied  to  poles,,so  as  not  to  run  adrift,  in  order  to 
fight  all  together  if  need  be.  When  everything 
was  arranged  they  sent  two  canoes  to  know  if 
their  enemies  wished  to  fight.  They  answered 
that  they  desired  nothing  else,  but  that  there 
was  not  then  light  enough  to  distinguish  each 
other  and  that  they  would  fight  at  sunrise. 
This  was  agreed  to.  On  both  sides  the  night 
was  spent  in  dancing  and  singing,  mingled  with 
insults  and  taunts.  Thus  they  sung,  danced, 
and  insulted  each  other  until  day  broke.  My 
companions  and  I  were  concealed  in  separate 
canoes  belonging  to  the  savage  Monta^nais. 

o      o  o  o 

Afte-r  being  equipped  with  light  armor,  each  of 
us  took  an  arquebus  and  went  ashore.  I  saw 
the  enemy  leaving  their  barricade.  They  were 
about  two  hundred  men,  strong  and  robust,  who 
were  coming  toward  us  with  a  gravity  and 
assurance  that  greatly  pleased  me,  led  on  by 
three  chiefs.  Ours  were  marching  in  similar 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.         09 

order,  who  told  me  that  those  who  bore  the 
three  lofty  plumes  were  the  chiefs  and  that  I 
must  do  all  I  could  to  kill  them.  I  promised  to 
do  the  best,  I  could.  The  moment  we  landed 
they  began  to  run  toward  the  enemy,  who  stood 
firm  and  had  not  yet  perceived  my  companions, 
who  went  into  the  bush  with  some  savages.  Ours 
commenced  calling  on  me  with  a  loud  voice,  open 
ing  way  for  me  and  placing  me  at  their  head, 
about  twenty  paces  in  advance,  until  I  was  about 
thirty  paces  from  the  enemy.  The  moment 
they  saw  me  they  halted,  gazing  at  me  and  I  at 
them.  When  I  saw  them  preparing  to  shoot  at 
us,  I  raised  my  arquebus,  and,  aiming  directly 
at  one  of  the  chiefs,  two  of  them  fell  to  the 
ground  by  this  shot,  and  one  of  their  com 
panions  received  a  wound  of  which  he  died 
afterwards.  I  had  put  four  balls  in  my  arque 
bus.  Ours,  on  witnessing  a  shot  so  favorable 
to  them,  set  up  such  tremendous  shouts  that 
thunder  could  not  have  been  heard,  and  yet 
there  was  no  lack  of  arrows  on  one  side  or  the 
other.  The  Iroquois  were  greatly  astonished  at 
seeing  two  men  killed  so  instantaneously,  not 
withstanding  that  they  were  provided  with 


70  LAKE   CHAMPLATN. 

arrow-proof  armor  woven  of  cotton  thread  and 
wood.  This  frightened  them  very  much. 

"Whilst  I  was  reloading,  one  of  my  com 
panions  fired  a  shot,  which  so  astonished  them 
anew,  seeing  their  chiefs  slain,  that  they  lost 
courage,  took  to  flight,  and  abandoned  the 
field  and  their  fort,  hiding  in  the  depths  of 
the  forest,  whither  pursuing  them,  I  killed  some 
others.  Our  savages  also  killed  several  of  them 
and  took  ten  or  twelve  of  them  prisoners.  The 
rest  carried  off  the  wounded.  Fifteen  or  six 
teen  of  ours  were  wounded.  These  were 
promptly  treated. 

"  After  having  gained  this  victory,  our  party 
amused  themselves  plundering  Indian  corn  and 
meal  from  the  enemy,  and  also  their  arms, 
which  they  had  thrown  away  the  better  to  run. 
And  having  feasted,  danced,  and  sung,  we 
returned  three  hours  afterwards  with  the 
prisoners." 

Such  is  Champlain's  description  of  the  battle. 
As  to  the  exact  locality  of  the  fight  there  has 
been  much  learned  (?)  dispute.  To  my  own 
mind  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  it.  The 
place  was  nigh  Ticonderoga.  Champlain  dis- 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          71 

tinctly  marks  the  locality  on  his  map  of  the 
lake :  that  is  enough  to  settle  it.  On  their 
return  trip,  Champlain  was  compelled  to  be  a 
spectator  of  one  of  those  appalling  scenes 
incident  to  Indian  warfare,  —  the  torture  of  a 
prisoner.  It  undoubtedly  took  place  at  Wills- 
boro1  Point,  near  where  the  hotel  now  stands. 
Champlain  strove  in  vain  to  save  the  victim 
from  the  torture,  and  to  deliver  him  from  pro 
longed  agonies  ;  and,  finally,  in  mercy,  shot  him 
dead  at  the  stake. 

It  was  in  this  encounter  that  the  Aquanu 
Schioni  —  United  People,  as  the  confederated 
Indians  called  themselves  —  saw  for  the  first 
time  a  Christian  white  man,  and  were  taught 
their  first  lesson  in  the  humane  ethics  of  what 
is  called  Christianity.  It  was  in  this  battle 
also  that  the  red  warriors  of  the  Mohawk  had 
their  first  introduction  to  a  Frenchman.  For  a 
hundred  and  fifty  years  they  carried  the  mem 
ory  of  it  on  the  edge  of  their  tomahawks  and 
the  points  of  their  seal  ping-knives.  More  than 
once  the  recollection  of  the  wrong  done  them 
on  the  shore  of  Champlain  by  the  armed  repre 
sentative  of  Old  France,  of  the  blood  of 


72  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

their  chiefs  there  ruthlessly  shed,  stood  like  a 
wall  of  fire  between  the  feeble  English  settle 
ment  south  of  them  and  the  French  and  Indian 
hordes  which  were  marshalled  to  destroy  them 
in  the  north.  More  than  once  France,  through 
Church  and  State,  practised  all  the  arts  of  per 
suasion  and  intimidation  to  entice  the  dreaded 
Iroquois  to  her  side  or  wedge  them  from  their 
alliance  with  the  English,  and  failed.  They 
could  not  forget  what  France  had  done  to  them 
in  their  first  encounter  near  Ticondero^a.  The 

o 

slaughter  of  the  Indian  chiefs  by  Champlain 
was  not  only  a  crime  but  a  political  blunder  - 
a  blunder  of  such  magnitude  and  so  far-reach 
ing  in  its  after  results  as  to  become  monu 
mental.  As  it  needs  but  a  single  stone  dropped 
into  the  feeble  current  at  its  source  to  decide  in 
which  direction  a  river  shall  flow  —  whether 
toward  the  south  or  toward  the  north  —  so  it 
needs  but  one  act  by  one  of  the  participants  at 
the  beginning  of  the  course  of  events  to  decide 
what,  years  after,  shall  be  the  character  of  the 
results  and  final  outcome  of  them.  If  Chain- 
plain  could  have  foreseen  what  his  slaughterous 
shots  had  done  for  France  that  morning  ;  could 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HISTORIC  PERIOD.          73 

he  but  have  heard  the  yells  of  hate,  the  screams 
of  agony,  the  shrieks  of  torture  which  were  to 
rise  for  a  hundred  years  as  awful  echoes  to  his 
fatal  gun,  he  would  then  and  there  have  turned 
his  arquebus  against  himself  and  expiated 
with  his  own  life  his  crime  against  France  and 
humanity.  It  has  been  said  that  long  before  he 
died  he  realized  both  his  sin  and  his  blunder, 
and  with  sincere  contrition  bemoaned  the  one 
and  deplored  the  other.  But  on  the  day  the 
crime  was  done  and  blunder  committed  he  did 
neither.  For  after  the  battle  was  over  and  the 
tumult  had  died  away,  flushed  with  victory, 
standing  on  the  shore  of  the  lake  with  the 
vision  of  its  loveliness  stretching  onward  before 
him,  he  joyfully  claimed  it  for  France  and 
named  it  with  his  own  name. 

The  student  can  but  be  impressed  with  the 
good-fortune  that  attended  Chainplain  in  his 
life  and  remained  faithful  to  his  memory  after 
death.  In  this  respect  he  stands  in  sharp  con 
trast  with  that  throng  of  adventurous  spirits 
whose  courage  and  whose  toils  were  equal  to  his 
own.  but  who,  in  life  and  death,  missed  his  happy 
fortunes. 


74  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

De  Soto  sleeps  in  a  nameless  grave  on  the  bank 
of  the  river  he  discovered  but  could  not  name. 
Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert  perished  on  a  tempestuous 
night  in  mid-ocean.  His  grave  is  a  sailor's  grave, 
without  name  and  without  spot.  John  Cabot 
gave  to  England  a  continent,  and  not  an  English- 
speaking  man  knows  where  he  is  buried.  Leif 
Erickson  discovered  America  four  hundred  years 
before  Columbus  was  born,  and  the  fame  of  the 
great  deed  has  been  given  to  another.  Sir 
Hugh  Willoughby  found  death  and  forgetful- 
ness  in  an  unknown  Lapland  harbor.  Henry 
Hudson  was  turned  adrift  from  his  ship  by  his 
mutinous  crew  in  the  midst  of  the  bay  that 
bears  his  name,  and  at  the  prime  of  life,  with 
his  little  son,  drifted  to  an  unknown  death. 
La  Salle,  the  noblest  spirit  after  Champlain, 
and  the  most  daring  soul  old  France  ever  sent 
westward,  sleeps  where  lie  was  murdered  under 
the  verbenas  of  an  unknown  Texan  prairie. 
Verendrye,  first  of  white  men  to  see  the  sum 
mits  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  slumbers  tombless. 
Jogues,  the  priest,  first  of  his  race  to  see  the 
Horicon,  was  tomahawked  in  a  Mohawk  village, 
while  the  name  he  gave  to  the  lake  has  been 


TRADITIONAL   AXD   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          75 

shoved  aside  for  that  of  the  coarse  Hanoverian 
King.  What  strange  fortunes  befell  these  old- 
time  wanderers  who  explored  the  world,  who 
gave  islands  and  continents  to  civilization,  who 
by  their  exploits  clomb  to  the  highest  levels  of 
fame,  and  who  were  thus  pursued  by  an  ironical 
fate  even  after  they  had  passed  through  the  port 
als  of  death  !  For,  of  them  all,  Champlain  left, 
in  dying,  to  the  clear  knowledge  of  men  who 
were  to  come  after,  the  two  things  they  most 
wish  to  know  and  visit — a  grave  and  a  monu 
ment.  For,  at  Quebec  the  tourist  and  pilgrim 
can  see  the  spot  where  his  body  sleeps,  and  in 
the  lake  that  bears  his  name  they  can  behold  a 
monument  as  magnificent  and  enduring  as  his 
fame. 

MOHAWK    KOCK. 

In  Burlington  Bay  there  stands  a  rock. 
Straight  up  from  out  the  water  it  rises,  bare  of 
soil  and  sharply  pointed,  a  veritable  interroga 
tion  point  to  puzzle  the  curious  voyager.  Has 
it  special  geologic  or  historic  significance,  and,  if 
it  has,  who  may  tell  its  origin  or  declare  its  con 
nection  ?  Is  it  the  core  of  some  island  washed 


76  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

away  by  the  waves  of  ages  ;  a  geologic  remnant 
of  ancient  days,  shrunken  from  fair  and  verdant 
fulness  to  this  bare  spike  of  stone  ;  or  was  it 
shot  upward  by  some  terrific  force  which,  long 
pent,  was  suddenly  let  loose  in  throe  or  spasm  of 
Nature  ;  a  volcanic  spear-point  of  stone  darted 
out  of  chaos  when  all  her  forces  were  hot  in 
maddest  action  ?  Who  will  answer  the  dumb 
interrogation  of  this  strangely  pointed  stone,  or 
translate  from  the  historic  silences  around  and 
above  it  messages  of  knowledge  ? 

Men  call  it  Rock  Dunder,  a  meaningless  name 
gotten  from  a  silly  tradition,  too  silly  to  men 
tion.  This  is  a  monumental  stone  standing  here 
in  Burlington  Bay,  a  memorial  shaft,  older  than 
the  column  of  Trajan,  older  than  the  Agora  of  the 
Greeks.  The  fame  of  this  rock  was  continental. 
Centuries  upon  centuries  before  the  white  man 
came,  it  was  known  to  every  Indian  warrior  from 
Cape  Breton  to  Lake  Erie,  and  from  Labrador 
to  Florida.  Among  all  the  Red  Nations  it  was 
known  and  named  with  awe.  It  was  a  landmark 
to  half  the  continent,  a  landmark  of  nationality 
and  empire,  a  pillar  of  authority,  a  symbol  of 
sovereignty  sustained  by  a  thousand  battles  dur- 


TRADITIONAL    AND    HISTORIC    PERIOD.          77 

ing  years  innumerable.  For,  from  Lake  Huron 
running  east  even  to  this  rock  in  Burlington 
Bay,  came  the  boundary  line  between  the 
Iroquois  and  Algonquin,  the  two  great  Indian 
races  which  held  the  continent  east  of  the 
Mississippi,  as  modern  men  of  different  and 
hostile  races  hold  their  countries  whose  bounda 
ries  touch  and  which  for  either  party  to  cross 
means  war. 

Of  all  the  Indian  tribes  the  confederated  Five 
Nations  were  ever  the  most  renowned.  They 
were  more  civilized  than  the  Greeks  when  Solon 
framed  his  code  for  his  countrymen  ;  they  were 
as  brave  as  the  Greeks  who  fought  at  Ther 
mopylae.  Their  chiefs  loved  battle  like  the 
old  Norse  Vikings.  The  Everglades  of  Florida 
paid  them  tribute,  and  the  Esquimaux  of  Labra 
dor  had  felt  the  weight  of  their  tomahawks. 
The  tribes  of  the  Mississippi  acknowledged 
their  sovereignty,  and  the  nations  that  camped 
round  the  shores  of  Lake  St.  John  kept  their 
sentinels  pushed  well  southward  in  dread  of  their 
fierce  invasion.  But  of  the  Five  Nations,  each 
fierce  as  a  hunting  eagle,  the  Mohawks  stood  in 
war  pre-eminent,  unmatched,  and  invincible. 


78  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

What  of  tins?  Much.  This  rock  in  Bur 
lington  Bay,  in  that  former  time,  was  Mohawk 
Kock  ;  the  landmark  of  their  northern  bound 
ary  ;  their  mute  and  savage  challenge  to  all  the 
great  tribes  of  the  North,  to  come  beyond  it 
southward  if  they  dared.  It  is  not  known  what 
they  called  it  in  their  tongue  ;  the  old  writings 
spell  it  differently  and  give  it  different  interpre 
tations.  I  care  nothing  for  them,  for  it  is  plain 
that  all  speak  of  it  out  of  their  ignorance. 
Of  it  all,  only  one  thing  is  certain,  which  is 
that  this  pointed  spire  of  stone  in  Burlington 
Bay  was  known  to  the  Indians  of  half  the  con 
tinent  as  Mohawk  Rock,  and  that  it  marked  the 
northern  point  of  their  savage  power  and  fierce 
dominion. 

To  this  rock  they  came  to  declare  war  or 
peace  with  all  the  other  tribes.  Around  it  they 
gathered  in  their  war  canoes  for  fierce  invasions 
northward.  From  this  mute  rock  they  fought 
their  way  into  the  Huron  country,  until  they 
held  in  their  firm  grasp  Hochelaga,  now  Mont 
real.  North  of  this  bare  rock  the  Mohawk 
might  go  as  far  as  his  bravery  could  carry  him, 
but  south  of  this  great  national  sign  no  Huron 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          79 

might  ever  come  one  step  and  live.  Away,  then, 
with  the  silly  name  that  local  ignorance  has 
given  to  this  historic  stone,  this  monument  of 
ancient  times,  old  with  unnumbered  centuries 
when  Champlain  came,  and  give  back  to  it  that 
significant  and  noble  name  by  which  the  lied 
races  knew  it,  when  by  them  it  was,  in  peace 
and  war,  treaty  and  tribute,  mentioned,  in  honor 
or  in  fear,  as  "  Mohawk  Eock." 

There  are  localities  in  the  world  which,  when 
visited,  provoke  the  imagination.  There  are 
spots  from  which  the  fancy  of  man  with  free 
wing  starts  for  flight  as  naturally  as  a  waking 
bird  from  his  morning  perch.  I  have  visited 
such  localities  and  felt  their  influence  upon  me. 
I  have  gone  as  pilgrim  to  such  places,  and  from 
their  altitude  gazing  backward  beheld  the  mar 
tial  pomp  and  glory  of  departed  days.  What 
might  not  this  old  stone  tell  us  if  it  might  speak 
of  old-time  wars  and  peace,  of  treaties  made  and 
broken  by  the  old-time  warriors  who  gathered  in 
solemn, councils  within  sight  of  it,  feasted  their 
friends  and  tortured  their  captive  foes  beneath 
the  mighty  pines  which  lined  in  those  far  days 
with  a  forest  wall  the  shores  of  Burlington  Bay  ? 


80  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

Some  night,  if  you  have  imagination,  when 
the  lake  sleeps,  and  through  the  dusk  the  lights 
of  heaven  shine  dimly,  paddle  out  across  the 
still  water,  climb  this  ancient  rock,  and,  sitting 
upon  the  crest  of  it,  listen  to  the  silence  brooding 
around  you ;  that  silence  which  is  not  empty 
but  full  of  knowledge  and  understanding  of 
what  it  has  seen  and  heard.  Make  your  mood 
receptive,  and,  it  may  be,  you  will  see  and  hear 
many  things, --the  low  murmur  of  solemn 
council,  the  battle  chant,  the  orator's  appeal,  the 
signal  for  assault,  the  dying  yell,  the  tortured 
victim's  moan,  the  funeral  lament.  Nor  shall 
your  eyes  lack  sights  that  will  enlarge  them ; 
for  onward  through  the  gloom  in  long  lines  with 
measured  paddle  stroke  you  will  see  canoes  of 
war  come  on,  pass  you,  and  disappear  sweeping 
northward ;  and  all  around  the  shores  where 
now  the  city  stands,  your  eyes  will  see  a  great 
wood  of  pines,  lighted  up  with  a  thousand  fires 
so  that  each  trunk  stands  forth  like  a  dark 
brown  pillar,  and,  in  the  wood  thus  lighted,  you 
will  behold  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  warriors, 
ochred  for  battle,  passing  to  and  fro.  And  with 
this  vision  of  aboriginal  life  and  times  standing 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          81 

vividly  outlined  in  person  and  circumstance 
before  you,  you  will  realize  what  so  few  learn, 
that  to  him  who  has  knowledge  and  imagination 
both  there  is  no  hidden  past.  The  thing  which 
puzzles  us  is  not  the  past  but  the  future ;  not 
the  door  which  has  been  shut,  but  that  strange 
door  which  has  never  been  opened.  For  who, 
although  knocking  with  reddened  knuckles 
against  it,  may  start  even  an  echo  ?  The  lost 
past  we  can  reconquer,  but  the  future,  who  may 
invade  it,  or  who,  of  it,  may  tell  us  one  single 
thing  ? 

TICONDEROGA. 

I  do  not  propose  to  write  the  history  of  the 
rocky  bluff  which  lies  between  the  waters  of 
Lake  Champlain  and  the  outlet  of  the  Horicon. 
Lacking  the  proportions  and  grandeur  of  Cape 
Diamond  at  Quebec,  it  nevertheless  matches  it 
in  historic  significance.  If  Quebec  was  the  head, 
Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point  were  the  two 
mailed  ^ hands  of  the  French  power,  and,  with 
these  two  hands,  until  they  were  severed  from 
her  body,  France  held  the  country  firmly  in  her 
grasp.  In  the  surrender  of  Quebec  the  colonial 


82  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

effort  of  France  on  this  continent  expired.  Its 
last  breath  was  breathed  with  the  dying  gasp  of 
Montcalm,  but  it  received  its  death-blow  at 
Ticonderoga.  There  it  was  that  the  steel  of 
England,  directed  by  the  skill  of  Pitt  and  driven 
home  by  the  conqueror  of  Louisburg,  reached 
its  vitals.  From  Ticonderoga  she  staggered 
toward  Quebec  as  a  wounded  bear  drags  herself 
to  her  den,  not  in  hopes  of  escaping  death,  but 
that  she  may  make,  at  its  mouth,  one  more  and 
her  last  fight  for  her  cubs. 

The  aborigines  called  the  stony  promontory 
Cheonderoga,  or  the  place  of  many  and  mellow 
sounds,  in  reference  to  the  dull  roar  of  the  falls, 
and  the  soft  sounds  of  the  rushing  rapids  that 
filled  the  smothering  woods  with  mellow  noise 
as  the  clear  waters  of  the  Horicon  tumbled  or 
rushed  over  their  obstructions  a  mile  beyond. 

The  French,  acknowledging  the  poetic  justice 
of  the  name,  called  it  Carillon,  —  the  Place  of 
Chimes,  —  and  year  after  year  the  soldiers  of 
France  within  the  fortress  listened  to  the 
cadence  of  the  falling;  waters  of  summer  nights 

o  c? 

and  fancied  that  they  heard  the  church  chimes 
of  their  native  land.  It  is  a  wonder  that  the 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD. 

stolid  English  who  drove  out  the  French  did  not 
rechristen  it  Camel's  Neck,  or  that  the  vulgariz 
ing  American  settlers  who  succeeded  the  Briton 
did  not  stigmatize  it  as  Hog  Point.  But,  pro 
tected  by  some  rare  fortune  or  the  Genius  of  the 
place,  to  whose  unknown  name  we  offer  our 
grateful  acknowledgments,  it  still  retains  its  old 
Indian  name,  with  a  slight  alteration  in  its 
spelling. 

The  fortress  whose  ruins  the  tourist  may  still 
see  and  explore  was  built  by  the  French  in 
1T5G.  And  to  the  student  of  history  and  the 
traveller  alike  they  are  the  most  interesting 
ones  on  the  continent.  The  fortress  was  sur 
rounded  by  water  on  three  sides,  and  a  portion 
of  the  remaining  side  was  a  dense  swamp. 
This  landward  side  was  defended  by  a  breast 
work  nine  feet  in  height  and  a  thick  abattis  of 
fallen  trees  whose  branches  were  sharpened  to  a 
point.  This  abattis  was  six  rods  deep  along  the 
entire  breastwork,  and  dense,  and  constituted  a 
horrible  tangle  of  impenetrable  obstruction. 
Against  this  breastwork,  protected  by  its  fright 
ful  abattis,  the  incompetent  Abercrombie  sent, 
time  and  again,  in  vain  and  successive  charges, 


84  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

the  finest  regiments  of  England  and  the  colo 
nies.  For  four  hours  the  unequal  and  awful 
contest  lasted,  and  when  at  last  the  signal  to 
retire  was  sounded  and  the  maddened  but  ex 
hausted  soldiery  drew  hack  from  the  gory  spot, 
two  thousand  bodies  were  left  in  that  awful 
parallelogram  —  twenty-three  rods  long  by  eight 
rods  wide  —  to  emphasize  the  incompetency  of 
English  generalship,  and  French  skill  and  cour 
age.  It  was  the  bloodiest  battle  ever  fought  on 
land  before  or  since  upon  the  continent,  as  the 
naval  battle  off  Plattsburgh  was  the  bloodiest 
battle  ever  fought  on  any  water  known  to 
history. 

The  next  year,  General  Amherst  conquered 
the  fortress  with  little,  if  any,  loss.  But 
Montcalm,  Levis,  Boulamaque  and  the  white- 
coated  troops  that  loved  the  battle  with  them 
were  not  there,  or  the  victor  of  Louisburg  would 
have  won  it  by  skill  if  he  won  it  at  all,  rather 
than  by  bravery.  For  England  never  had  a 
commander  on  this  continent  that  might  be 
compared  with  Montcalm,  unless  his  companion 
'in  death --the  gifted  but  delicate  Wolfe  — 
might  be  called  his  peer. 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          Ho 

One  summer  night  I  visited  this  most  historic 
of  all  our  historic  places,  this  most  romantic  of 
all  our  ruins,  and  watched  the  night  out  seated 
upon  its  crumbled  walls  or  wandering  along  its 
mounded  ramparts.  The  moon  was  at  its  full, 
and  its  white  ghostly  light  gave  fitting  illumi 
nation  to  the  spot  where  so  many  in  other  years 
had  fought  and  died.  I  doubt  if  any.  even  the 
dullest,  might  be  so  placed  and  not  have  both 
memory  and  imagination  quickened.  As  for 
myself,  I  will  confess  that  night  and  its  emo 
tions  remain  after  a  quarter  of  a  century  of 
time  as  clearly  and  impressively  engraved  on  my 
memory  as  the  features  of  my  mother's  face.  To 
me  as  to  the  red  men  Ticonderoga  was  a  name  of 
nature,  suggestive  of  mellow  sounds,  for  to  my 
ears,  through  the  damp  air  of  dewy  upland  and 
foggy  river,  there  came  the  murmur  of  rapids 
and  the  voices  of  the  waters  of  the  falls  mel 
lowed  by  the  distance.  Then  came  the  memory 
of  later  times,  —  of  war  and  battles,  —  and  I 
heard  the  measured  fall  of  sentinel  feet ;  the 
hourly  call  from  angle  unto  angle  ;  and  caught 
the  gleam  of  cannon  on  the  ramparts  and  of 
stacked  arms  and  long  lines  of  blanketed  forms 


Hb  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

sleeping  on  the  warm  turf  beyond  tlie  glacis. 
Below  me  on  the  pallid  water  I  saw  canoes 
come  noiselessly  out  of  distance  and  into  dis 
tance  go  as  noiselessly.  To  the  angle  of  the 
wall  nigh  where  I  sat  Montcalm  came  and  on  it 
seated  himself.  Soon  De  Levis  joined  him, 
then  Bonlamaque  with  Bourgansville.  And 
last  of  all  Marin,  the  scout,  the  only  rival  in 
skill  and  courage  that  Eogers  and  Putnam  ever 
had,  and  who  saved  the  latter  from  the  stake,1 
even  when  the  fagots  were  on  fire  around  him. 
Together  in  low  tones  they  talked  of  France 
and  loved  ones ;  of  battles  fought  and  won ;  of 
comrades  dead  or  distant ;  of  perils  passed  and 

1  Putnam,  while  scouting,  was  taken  a  prisoner  by  some  of 
Marin's  command.  They  bound  him  to  a  tree  and  one  of  the 
Indians  amused  himself  by  seeing  how  near  he  could  throw  his 
tomahawk  to  the  prisoner's  head  without  touching  it.  Putnam 
bore  the  ordeal  unflinchingly,  and  at  the  close  of  it  a  Canadian 
put  his  fusee  at  Putnam's  breast  and  snapped  it.  Fortunately  it 
missed  fire,  at  which  the  scoundrel  gave  him  a  severe  blow  in  the 
face  with  the  butt  end  of  his  gun.  Putnam  was  then  taken  to  the 
spot  where  the  Indians  were  encamped,  and  his  clothes  stripped 
from  him.  They  then  bound  him  to  a  tree,  piled  a  great  brush 
heap  around  him,  and  set  it  on  fire.  It  was  at  this  moment,  when 
the  flames  were  penetrating  through  the  brush  toward  his  body, 
that  his  great  rival  and  foe,  with  whom  he  had  fought  a  hundred 
skirmishes,  — Marin,—  burst  through  the  throng  of  Indians,  scat 
tered  the  burning  brushes  and  brands,  and  cut  the  withes  that 
bound  Putnam  to  the  stake  with  his  knife. 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC  PERIOD.          87 

perils  yet  to  come.  Then  round  them  gathered 
their  great  foes  :  Lord  Howe  —  who  in  the  field 
matched  the  younger  Pitt  in  the  cabinet,  whose 

<j  O 

virtues  made  him  envied  of  death,  over  whose 
lifeless  form  the  rough  Putnam  sobbed  like  a 
girl,  and  the  largest  army  England  ever  mar 
shalled  in  America  stood  appalled  at  its  loss : 
Abercrombie,  the  incompetent,  to  whom  Mont- 
calm  lifted  his  chapeau  in  derision ;  Amherst, 
.cautious,  persistent,  brave,  with  the  laurels  of 
Louisburg  on  his  brow ;  Campbell  of  Inverawe, 
mysteriously  fated  unto  death ;  Rogers,  the 
great  scout  —  the  only  scout  of  fame,  who  after 
Lexington  loved  the  King  of  England  better 
than  his  country ;  Arnold,  Townshend,  Lyinan, 
Johnson,  Montgomery.  Gates,  Ethan  Allen, 
Seth  Warner,  Remember  Baker,  Stark,  and 
Putnam  —  all  came  as  to  a  familiar  place  and 
stood  before  me  making  such  a  group  of  fame, 
as  history  cannot  equal  at  any  other  citadel  or 
ancient  battle  plain  save  one  —  Quebec. 

Then  came  the  dawn  and  with  it  the  rush  of 
feet,  the'  sharp  click  of  a  firelock  at  the  postern, 
and  the  stentorian  voice  of  Ethan  Allen  de 
manding  of  Laplace  that  the  fortress  be  surren- 


88  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

dered    to    him,    speaking    "  in    the    name    of 
Jehovah  and  the  Continental  Congress."  x 

With  such  recollections  and  musings  was  my 
mind  filled  as  I  sat  or  wandered  amid  the  ruins 
of  Ticonderoga  on  that  moon-lighted  summer 
night,  until  with  the  hours  of  it  moving  in  con 
cert,  the  dim  stars  passed  from  sight,  and  over 
the  mountains  of  the  east  the  sun  rose  resplen- 
dently  strong  and  bright,  lighting  with  his 
rays  a  great  and  prosperous  land  whose  liberty 
and  religion  owe  so  much  to  Ticonderoga, 

1  The  following  address  was  delivered  by  Ethan  Allen  to  his 
eighty-three  compatriots  as  they  stood  on  the  western  shore  of  the 
lake,  after  they  had  been  ferried  across  ready  to  make  their  des 
perate  attempt  to  capture  the  fortress.  The  date  was  May  10, 
1775,  and  the  hour  was  that  of  early  dawn.  I  preserve  the  words 
of  the  address,  as  illustrative  of  the  bravery  of  the  leader  and  the 
led. 

"  Friends  and  fellow-soldiers,  you  have  for  years  past  been  a 
scourge  and  a  terror  to  arbitrary  power.  Your  valor  has  been 
famed  abroad  and  acknowledged,  as  appears  by  the  advice  and 
orders  to  me  from  the  General  Assembly  of  Connecticut  to  sur 
prise  and  take  the  garrison  now  before  us.  I  propose  to  advance 
before  you  and  in  person  conduct  you  through  the  wicket  gate;  for 
we  must  this  morning  either  quit  our  pretensions  to  valor  or  pos 
sess  ourselves  of  this  fortress  in  a  few  minutes;  and  inasmuch 
as  it  is  a  desperate  attempt,  which  none  but  the  bravest  of  men 
dare  undertake,  I  do  not  urge  it  on  any  contrary  to  his  will. 
You  who  will  undertake  it  with  me  voluntarily  poise  your 
firelocks." 

Allen  relates  that  every  man  did  poise  his  firearm. 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          89 

whose  ruins  still  stand  to  remind  every  citizen 
of  the  Great  Republic  of  their  everlasting 
debt. 

CROWN    POINT. 

Next  to  Ticonderoga  in  interest  to  the  stu 
dent  of  American  history,  and  in  some  respects 
superior  to  it,  stands  Crown  Point  and  the 
region  around  about  it.  Geographically  it  is  in 
truth  The  Gate  of  the  Lake,  for  such  is  the  nar 
rowness  of  the  lake  at  this  point  that  the 
feeblest  of  armaments  might  close  it  to  all  pass 
age.  The  French  early  perceived  the  impor 
tance  of  this  peculiarity  of  its  topography  from 
a  military  point  of  view,  and  built  a  fort  there 
as  early  as  173 1.1  It  was  17-59  when,  at  the 

1  The  fortress  which  the  French  built  in  1731  was  called  Fort 
St.  Frederic,  and  was  so  utterly  destroyed  by  them  when  they 
evacuated  it  in  1750.  that,  on  the  arrival  of  General  Amherst's 
command,  he  found  only  blackened  walls  and  ruined  passages.  It 
was  because  of  the  blackened  chimneys  of  the  burned  houses  that 
were  left  standing  amid  the  surrounding  ruins  that  the  locality 
received  the  name  of  "  Chimney  Point,"  a  name  by  which  it  is  still 
known. 

Amherst  immediately  traced  out  the  lines  of  a  new  fort  some 
forty  rods  west  of  the  site  of  the  old  Fort  St.  Frederic.  lie 
planned  a  magnificent  fortification.  The  ramparts  were  twenty-five 
feet  thick,  over  twenty  feet  in  height  and  of  solid  masonry.  The  cur- 


90  LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

victorious  advance  of  Amherst,  they  left  it  for 
ever.  For  more  than  a  hundred  years  the 
banner  of  France  had  waved  above  the  walls  of 
the  fortress  that  French  power  had  erected,  and 
held  in  evidence  that  Lake  Champlain  and  its 
shores  belonged  to  it. 

It  is  a  strange  fact  that  historically  Crown 
Point  is  a  mystery  and  a  puzzle.  There  are 
many  evidences  that  at  some  unknown  period 
it  was  the  centre  of  a  large  population.  Proofs 
of  a  populous  and  permanent  occupation  are 
not  wanting.  It  is  evident  even  now  that  the 
shores  of  Bulwagga  Bay,  for  many  rods,  at 
places,  were,  at  some  remote  period,  graded  and 
artificially  sloped  to  the  water.  Signs  of 
ancient  fences  and  enclosures  as  of  gardens 
and  door-yards  may  still  be  seen.  In  some  of 
tliBse  enclosures  aged  fruit  trees,  of  whose  plant 
ing  none  living  knew,  were  standing  within  the 
recollection  of  present  owners.  There  is  an 

tains  were  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  yards  in  length,  and  the  cir 
cuit  of  the  ramparts  measured  over  eight  hundred  yards.  A  deep 
and  wide  ditch  hewn  from  the  solid  rock  surrounded  the  entire 
work.  It  was  never  completed,  although  what  was  done  on  it  cost 
the  English  government  over  ten  millions  of  dollars.  It  is  this 
work,  undertaken  by  Amherst  in  1759,  the  ruins  of  which  are  now 
visible  to  the  tourist. 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          91 

old  street  that  can  be  traced,  made  of  broken 
stone  like  the  macadamized  roads  of  to-day. 
Ancient  cellars,  some  of  them  hewn  from  the 
solid  rock,  still  line  this  street.  There  is  a 
sidewalk  made  of  flagging  still  to  be  seen,  but 
none  can  tell  who  laid  it.  These  stones  are 
worn,  and  show  that  they  have  been  pressed  by 
countless  feet.  There  are,  moreover,  two  large 
graveyards,  — 

"Great  cities  filled  with  pale  inhabitants/' 

which  tell  that  hundreds  and  thousands  who 
lived,  loved,  and  labored  once  were  here. 

Settlers  who  came  in  to  settle  the  country 
after  the  Revolution  said  that  they  found  a 
large  tract,  miles  in  extent,  with  not  a  tree  or 
bush  on  it,  that  had  evidently  been  highly  culti 
vated.  In  these  same  fields,  now  largely  over 
grown  with  a  heavy  forest,  asparagus,  herbs, 
and  bushes  usually  cultivated  by  man  can  still 
be  seen.  Rogers,  the  famous  scout,  in  one  of 
his  letters,  speaks  of  wide  fields  around  Crown 
Point,  and  that  they  were  covered  with  noble 
crops.  He  also  writes  of  settlements  on  the 
east  side  of  the  lake,  and  of  "  three  hundred 


92  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

men,  chiefly  inhabitants  of  the  adjacent  vil 
lages."  But  if  there  were  "three  hundred 
men  "  in  these  villages,  then  the  total  popula 
tion  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake,  within  sight  of 
the  fort,  must  have  been  at  least  fifteen  hun 
dred.  How  many,  then,  were  probably  on  the 
west  side,  where  the  real  centre  and  power,  the 
military  possession  and  commerce,  were  ?  Kalm, 
the  Swedish  traveller,  said  that  "about  the  fort 
in  1749  wrere  a  large  settlement,  and  pleasant 
cultivated  fields  and  gardens."  There  is  no 
doubt  that  Crown  Point  was  at  one  time  not 
only  the  centre  of  a  vast  aboriginal  traffic  in 
skins  and  peltries,  but  also  of  a  large  commer 
cial  exchange  between  the  French  and  Dutch 
and  English  settlements  of  which  we  have  no 
record.  My  own  belief  is  that  at  one  time 
the  population  of  Crown  Point  was  not  less 
than  five  thousand  souls.  Any  intelligent 
tourist  .will  find  this  locality  a  most  interesting 
one  to  visit  and  examine. 

The  campaign  of  1759,  under  the  command 
of  Amherst,  secured  the  possession  of  the  con 
tinent  to  England.  The  French  left  Crown 
Point,  as  they  had  a  few  days  before  left  Ticon- 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          93 

deroga,  on  his  approach  forever,  and  Amherst  at 
once  set  to  work  to  erect  an  impregnable  and 
magnificent  fortress.  The  ruins  of  this  work 
still  bear  witness  to  its  original  strength  and 
splendor.  With  those  at  Ticonderoga  they  com 
pose  the  most  extensive  and  impressive  ruins 
erected  by  white  men  on  the  continent.  The 
trenches  and  ramparts  can  still  be  clearly 
traced.  The  barracks  still  remain  in  part. 
The  great  bakery  is  wrell  preserved.  The  old 
fireplaces  are  to  be  seen,  and  on  the  walls 
names  and  scribblings  traced  by  hands  that 
have  been  powerless  to  hold  pen  or  knife  for  a 
hundred  years.  The  last  time  I  visited  the  site 
of  old  Fort  Frederick  at  Crown  Point,  sheep 
were  feeding  on  the  grassy  rampart,  and  a 
phoebe  was  singing  her  liquid  note  at  the  mouth 
of  the  old  magazine. 

ARNOLD'S  BATTLE  AT  YALCOUR  ISLAND. 

We  are  not  an  admirer  of  Benedict  Arnold, 
considered  in  the  light  of  a  military  commander 
only,  and  wholly  apart  from  the  dastard  act 
which  made  him  infamous  as  a  traitor  to  his 
country.  Nor  can  we  find  in  his  career  as  a 


94  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

commander  in  his  various  undertakings  any 
justification  of  the  honorable  place  which  histo 
rians  have  awarded  him.  For,  so  far  as  we  are 
aware,  he  never  won  a  victory  or  accomplished 
anything  of  practical  value  to  the  cause  that  he 
served  for  years  with  undoubted  personal 
courage.  .  That  he  was  brave  in  battle  and 
energetic  in  preparation  is  true,  but  the  same 
might  be  claimed  for  hundreds  and  thousands 
to  whom  fame  w^as  never  awarded,  and  in  whose 
behalf  no  claim  of  it  might,  with  any  show  of 
reason,  be  advanced.  If  success  is  in  warlike 
undertakings  the  proper  gauge  of  merit,  the 
court  from  whose  decision  no  appeal  can  be 
taken,  then  Benedict  Arnold  was  never  deserv 
ing  of  especial  honor  or  honorable  mention  in 
history,  for  success  never  attended  his  efforts. 

Judged  by  his  record,  if  he  was  a  hero  at  all, 
he  was  a  hero  of  failures.  Offensively  egotistic 
and  vain,  envious  and  revengeful  to  a  degree, 
mean  and  dishonest,  a  boaster  and  a  liar,  he 
deserved  condemnation  and  contempt  for  the 
meanness  of  his  personal  traits  and  innumerable 
acts  of  injustice  long  before  the  inherent  wicked 
ness  of  his  nature  and  the  growing  sinfulness  of 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.         95 

his  career  culminated  in  his  betrayal  of  his 
country.  His  battle  at  Yalcour  was  not  only  a 
defeat,  but  a  defeat  that  might  have  been 
avoided. 

It  was  the  middle  of  August  when  he  took 
command  of  his  fleet  at  Crown  Point.  It  was 
respectable  in  the  number  of  its  vessels  and  their 
armament.  It  was  re-enforced  before  the  llth 
of  October,  when  he  fought  the  battle  at  Yalcour, 
until  it  carried  over  eighty  guns  and  seven  hun 
dred  men.  At  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point 
General  Gates  had  an  army  of  nearly  ten  thou 
sand  troops.  They  were  in  a  good  state  of  disci 
pline,  and  efficiently  armed.  Crown  Point  was 
then,  as  it  had  been  for  a  hundred  years,  the 
key  to  the  position.  Behind  its  batteries  Arnold 
could,  at  any  time,  if  pushed  by  the  English, 
have  found  safety  for  his  fleet.  Wisdom  re 
quired,  nay,  demanded,  that  he  should  fight  the 
English — when  he  fought  them  —  in  the  open 
lake,  so  that  in  case  of  defeat  he  might  retire 
behind  tthe  guns  of  Crown  Point,  or  even,  if 
necessary,  above  the  protecting  works  at  Ticon 
deroga.  This  plan  he  was  urged  to  adopt  by 
Waterbury  and  other  captains  of  his  ships. 


96  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

Why  lie  did  not  adopt  it  is  explainable  only  on 
the  ground  of  liis  complete  incompetency  to 
command  in  a  large  undertaking.  What  he  did 
do  was  to  place  his  whole  fleet — which  he  knew 
was  inferior  to  that  of  his  antagonist  —  in  such 
a  position  that  it  could  not  fight  save  at  close 
quarters,  and,  in  case  of  defeat,  could  not  retire 
in  safety  or  together.  The  result  was  that  his 
men  fought  bravely  and  his  fleet  was  destroyed. 

Yalcour  Island  lies  on  the  western  side  of  the 
lake,  several  miles  below  Cumberland  Head. 
Between  it  and  the  shore  there  is  half  a  mile 
of  water.  The  entrance  to  this  passage  between 
the  island  and  shore  is  wider  from  the  south 
than  from  the  north.  Allowing  that  the  English 
fleet  would  attack  him  from  the  south  —  which 
it  did  —  he  would,  in  case  he  was  defeated,  be 
entirely  cut  off  from  the  line  of  retreat,  and  have 
no  resort  save  the  negligence  of  the  victors  or 
sheer  luck.  This  was  all  pointed  out  to  him  by 
his  captains,  but  he  gave  them  no  heed.  He 
anchored  his  fleet  in  a  line  from  Valcour  to  the 
shore  and  waited  the  coming  of  Pringle ! 

It  was  October  11,  and  at  eight  o'clock  of  the 
morning,  when  the  English  fleet  were  discovered 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.          97 

off  Cumberland  Head.  The  wind  was  blowing 
freshly  from  the  north,  and  before  it  the  fleet, 
with  swelling  canvas,  was  booming  rapidly 
along.  Past  Valcour,  a  mile  to  the  east  of  it, 
they  swept,  every  glass  directed  and  every  eye 
gazing  southward,  expecting  that  Arnold  would 
be  discovered  far  up  the  lake.  Imagine  their 
surprise  when,  suddenly,  they  saw  his  whole 
fleet  bunched  inside  of  Valcour !  A  glance  re 
vealed  its  inferiority  to  their  own,  and  the  cer 
tainty  of  their  victory.  It  was  reported  that 
the  English  commander,  as  he  wore  his  ship 
around  toward  the  west,  took*  a  long  look  at 
Arnold's  position  through  his  glass,  and  ex 
claimed  to  General  Carlton,  who  was  standing 
by  his  side  :  ^  What  a  brave  fool  he  is  !  "  An 
accurate  description  ! 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  the  battle.  The 
Americans  fought  with  courage,  of  course. 
Arnold  did  the  work  of  a  common  gunner, 
pointing  nearly  every  piece  on  the  Congress 
himself,  Waterbury,  on  the  Washington, 
fought  his  ship  like  a  commander,  from  the 
quarter-deck,  and  at  the  close  of  the  conflict  was 
the  only  active  officer  on  board.  It  was  Water- 


LAKE    CHAM  PLAIN. 

bury  who  had  been  most  insistent  that  the  fleet 
should  make  its  fight  on  the  open  water  of  the 
lake  and  from  the  south  of  the  enemy.  Even 
after  the  English  appeared  off  Cumberland  Head, 
it  is  recorded  that  he  went  on  board  the  Con 
gress,  and  urged  Arnold  to  get  under  way  and 
run  the  fleet  out  from  the  pot-hole  where  it  was 
anchored.  The  battle  was  fought  and  won  by 
the  English  gunboats  only  and  one  schooner. 
The  Thunderer,  the  Loyal  Convert,  the  Inflexi 
ble,  and  the  larger  vessels  of  the  English  took 

O  o 

no  part  in  the  action.  Pringle  had  been  unable 
to  bring  them  up  to  windward  in  time.  They 
were  not  needed.  The  defeat  of  Arnold  was 
complete,  and  would  have  been  ignominious  but 
for  the  courage  of  his  captains  and  the  bravery 
of  his  men.  The  only  vessels  that  succeeded  in 
reaching  Crown  Point  were  one  sloop,  one 
schooner,  a  gondola,  and  a  galley.  No  wonder 
that  the  principal  officers  of  his  fleet  called  him 
"The  Evil  Genius  of  the  North."  He  should 
have  been  cashiered  and  dismissed  from  ser 
vice  in  disgrace.  But  General  Gates,  for  some 
unaccountable  reason,  covered  up  the  facts 
of  the  case  in  his  report  to  Congress,  and 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC   PERIOD.          99 

thus  enabled  the  most  incompetent  of  com 
manders  to  become  the  worst  of  traitors  to  his 
country.1 

1  It  seems  proper  that  the  following  incident,  illustrative  of  the 
"  cruelty  of  the  savage,''  as  it  is  well  accredited,  should  be  pre 
served.  While  the  fight  was  being  hotly  contested,  a  Mrs.  Hay, 
who  lived  in  a  house  on  the  mainland  near  the  scene  of  the  con 
flict,  carrying  her  infant  in  her  arms,  went  to  a  spring  near  the 
lake  which  flowed  through  a  dense  thicket.  To  her  horror  she  sud 
denly  found  herself  in  the  midst  of  a  large  force  of  Indians,  terrible 
in  their  war  paint,  and  all  armed  with  guns  and  tomahawks.  She, 
realizing  her  peril,  clasped  her  babe  to  her  bosom,  and  burst  into 
tears.  An  aged  chief  approached  her,  and,  unable  to  console  her 
in  her  own  language,  gently  wiped  her  tears  from  her  cheeks  with 
the  soft  fringe  of  his  hunting  shirt,  and  then  motioned  her  to  re 
turn  to  her  house,  where  she  remained  unmolested.  This  is  only 
a  typical  case  of  the  treatment  which  white  women  received  at  the 
hands  of  the  red  Indian,  whom  the  historian  Parknian  goes  out  of 
his  way  — whenever  he  can  find  the  least  excuse  —  to  revile  and 
malign.  I  have  heard  a  thoroughly  informed  student  of  our  Indian 
wars  publicly  assert  that  there  was  not  a  single  instance  in  our  his 
tory  of  a  white  woman  having  been  outraged  or  insulted  by  a  pure- 
blooded  Indian,  nor  of  one  being  tortured  as  a  captive,  no  matter 
how  bitterly  she  may  have  fought  them,  and  only  a  few  cases  of 
white  women  being  killed,  even  in  the  moments  of  their  wildest 
rage.  If  Mr.  rarkman  will  recall  the  ordinary  treatment  which 
maidens  and  matrons  alike  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Christian 
and  civilized  soldiery  of  Europe  when  a  city  was  captured  and 
sacked;  if  he  will  recall  the  unnamable  tortures  which  were  in 
flicted  by  priestly  exemplars  of  the  mercies  of  God  in  Peru;  or  the 
horrible  mutilations  and  agonizing  deaths  inflicted  on  the  Wal- 
denses  and  Huguenots  by  the  sanction  or  order  of  the  Vice-gerent 
of  God  on  earth  —  the  recollection  might,  perhaps,  make  him 
more  fair  and  scholarly  in  his  indictment  of  the  Indian  race. 


100  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

MACDOXOUGIl's    VICTORY    IX    PLATTSBURG's  BAY. 

The  battle  between  the  American  and  English 
fleet  off  Plattsburg,  Sept.  11,  1813,  was  one 
which  can  be  recalled  with  pride  by  the  coun 
trymen  of  those  who  won  and  those  who  lost ; 
for  the  fight  was  one  of  the  most  desperate 
ever  fought  in  ships,  and  from  first  to*  last  the 
contest  was  waged  by  either  party  with  equal 
skill  and  courage.  The  same  blood  was  in 
either  host,  and  the  same  grim,  stubborn  way  of 
fighting  characterized  the  ships  that  bore  the 
Stars  and  the  ships  that  bore  the  Cross.  The 
armaments  were  nearly  the  same  in  number 
and  calibre  of  their  guns  and  in  the  force  of 
fighting  men  engaged,  while  the  commandants 
of  the  hostile  fleets  were  men  of  tried  skill 
and  courage,  and  the  captains  under  them  were 
of  that  metal  whose  edge  loved  the  fierce  fric 
tion  of  the  fray  and  sharpened  to  it  as  it  raged 
on. 

The  conditions  which  preceded  and  attended 
the  conflict  were  rare  and  rarely  perfect.  Each 
fleet  wras  built  in  expectation  of  it  and  under 
the  eye  of  the  admiral  who  wras  to  bring  it  into 


TRADITIONAL   AXD   HISTORIC   PERIOD.       101 

action.  Macdonovigh  was  of  fighting  stock 
and  fame,  and  at  Yergennes  had  built  his  ves 
sels  and  armed  them  for  this  fight.  Downie 
knew  well  whom  and  what  sort  of  a  man  he 
was  to  meet,  and  had  prepared  a  perfect  equip 
ment  for  the  desperate  meeting  wisely  and  well. 
Each  knew  that  the  fight  was  to  be  on  level 
water  and  within  pistol  range,  where  every 
shot  would  tell,  and  that  the  perfection  of 
armament  and  the  skill  and  courage  with  which 
the  guns  were  served  would  decide  the  issue. 
Each  knew  that  when  it  came  it  would  be  a 
duel  — a  duel  to  the  death  ;  and  that  grit  —  the 
grit  of  the  most  warlike  blood  of  the  world  — 
would  settle  it.  Each  knew  also  that  two 
armies  drawn  up  in  battle  array  on  the  nigh 
shores,  under  the  same  banners  which  floated 
over  the  two  fleets,  would  supply  the  audience 
fit  for  such  a  noble  scene,  while  two  nations 
would  wait  in  suspense  for  the  first  tidings  of 
the  fray.  Seldom,  if  ever,  in  the  history  of 
naval  warfare  have  such  stimulating  conditions 
preceded  and  attended  a  contest  between  the 
contestants. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  of  the  morning  when  the 


102  LAKE    CIIAMPLATX. 

British  vessels  rounded  Cumberland  Head  and 
got  their  first  view  of  their  foe,  who  lay  in 
battle  line  awaiting  them.  Macdonough's 
arrangement  of  his  ships  was  perfect.  From 
near  Crab  Island  his  line  stretched  straight 
across  the  bay  northward  to  a  point  abreast  of 
Cumberland  Head,  but  somewhat  inside  of  it. 
At  the  head  of  the  line  was  the  Eagle,  Captain 
Henly  commander.  The  Eagle  was  a  brig  as 
to  its  rig,  mounting  twenty  guns  and  manned 
with  one  hundred  and  fifty  men.  Next  to  her 
in  order,  toward  the  south,  lay  Macdonoui^h 

u  o 

with  the  flag-ship,  the  Saratoga,  mounting 
twenty-six  guns,  with  two  hundred  and  twelve 
men.  Then  came  the  Ticonderoga,  Cassin  com 
manding,  with  seventeen  guns  and  one  hundred 
and  ten  men ;  and  next  in  order,  ending  the 
line  near  Crab  Island,  was  the  Preble,  Budd 
commanding,  with  seven  guns  and  thirty  men. 
She  lay  so  near  the  shoal  stretching  northeast 
ward  from  the  island  as  to  prevent  the  line 
from  being  turned  by  the  enemy. 

To  the  rear  of  the  first  line  of  battle  thus 
placed  were  ten  gunboats  mounted  with  twenty- 
four,  eighteen,  and  twelve  pounders,  and 


TRADITIONAL    AND    HISTORIC   PERIOD.        103 

carrying  some  thirty-five  men  each,  and  so 
placed  as  to  command  the  intervals  between  the 
vessels  of  the  front  line  and  able  to  support 
them  in  emergency.  In  this  wise  manner  had 
Macdonough  made  his  line  of  battle ;  and, 
standing  on  the  high  shore  above  Plattsburg, 
one  can  in  imagination  see  to-day  his  fleet  lying 
ready  for  action. 

Macdonongh' s  spirit  was  of  the  highest,  his 
mood  heroic.  A  captain  of  one  of  his  ships 
signalled  to  inquire  if  it  would  not  be  well  to 
serve  a  ration  of  grog  -to  the  crews  before  the 
conflict  opened  —  a  custom  universal  in  those 
days  on  fighting  ships  thus  placed.  He  de 
clined  the  suggestion  and  signalled  back  that 
his  men  should  fight  that  fight  braced  by  no 
other  stimulant  than  their  native  courage  and 
their  patriotic  love  for  their  country.  It  has 
been  said  that  his  brave  reply  was  received 
with  cheers  by  the  entire  fleet.  In  this  brave 
style  and  spirit,  as  the  British  bore  up  against 
them,  the  Americans  stood  silently  and  bravely 
at  their  guns,  while  the  two  hostile  armies  on 
the  shore  paused  in  their  initial  skirmishing,  each 
regiment  standing  at  rest  to  see  the  fight  begin. 


104  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

The  English  fleet  was  brought  into  action  in 
a  manner  worthy  of  the  brave  Downie's  reputa 
tion  and  the  best  traditions  of  their  naval  ser 
vice.  He  bore  up  against  the  Saratoga,  and 
anchored  within  two  cable-lengths  without 
firing  a  shot.  The  Confiance  was  a  frigate ; 
her  armament  thirty-seven  guns,  with  a  crew  of 
three  hundred  men.  There  were  many  of  her 
officers  and  men  who  had  fought  under  Nelson 
at  Trafalgar  and  knew  how  to  fight  a  ship  in 
silence  until  she  sunk.  Lying  thus  at  shortest 
range,  on  level  water,  abreast  of  the  Saratoga, 
she  poured  into  her  her  broadside  of  twenty- 
four-pounders  with  an  explosion  as  of  one  gun. 
The  effect  of  the  awful  discharge  was  terrific. 
Macdonough's  ship  shook  from  stem  to  stern  as 
the  monstrous  weight  of  plunging  metal  struck 
her,  and  staggered  like  a  man  hit  suddenly  on 
the  breast  by  a  giant's  fist.  That  one  fearful 
discharge  disabled  forty  of  her  crew. 

Thus  was  the  battle  opened,  and  for  two 
hours  and  a  half,  with  the  thunder  of  heated 
guns,  the  crash  of  shattered  wood,  the  shout 
and  cheers  of  men,  the  snapping  of  booms  and 
yards  and  masts,  swathed  from  sight  in  sulphur- 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.       105 

ous  smoke,  the  brave  antagonists  fought  it  out. 
None  flinched.  The  brave  Downie  fell  dead  on 
his  deck.  Twice  was  Macdonough  down.  Once 
the  head  of  a  gunner,  severed  from  his  body, 
was  driven  against  him  with  such  violence  that 

o 

it  knocked  him  into  the  scuppers.  No  man  was 
called  wounded  in  either  fleet  if  he  could  keep 
on  his  feet  or  pass  ammunition  on  his  knees. 
Midshipman  Lee  of  the  Confiance  said  that  he 
doubted  if  there  were  live  men  out  of  the  three 
hundred  that  were  not  killed  or  wounded.  The 
Saratoga  was  hulled  fifty-five  times  and  was 
twice  on  fire.  The  Confiance  was  hulled  one 
hundred  and  five  times.  The  Americans  lost 
one  man  in  every  eight,  killed  or  wounded,  and 
at  the  close  of  the  action  there  was  not  a  mast 
in  either  fleet  fit  for  use.  In  both  fleets  the 
lower  rigging  hung  down  as  if  but  just  placed, 
in  setting  up,  over  the  mastheads.  The  masts 
themselves  were  so  splintered  that  they  looked 
like  bunches  of  matches,  and  the  sails,  tattered 
and  begrimed  with  powder,  like  bundles  of  old 
rags.  'Well-informed  writers  have  said  that  it 
was  the  bloodiest  naval  battle  ever  fought  by  a 
fleet  of  ships. 


106  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

The  last  time  I  passed  over  the  historic  water 
on  which  this  dreadful  battle  was  fought,  it  was 
in  a  yacht  at  whose  peak,  at  equal  height,  the 
Red  Cross  of  St.  George  and  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  waved  in  evidence  of  the  friendship  and 
affection  which  now  exists  between  the  two 
great  nations  which  seventy-six  years  ago 
fought  each  other  so  fiercely  in  Plattsburg  Bay. 

FORT  MONTGOMERY. 

At  the  northern  end  of  the  lake,  where  it 
narrows  into  the  river  Richelieu,  at  the  national 
boundary  line,  stands  Fort  Montgomery.  It  is 
a  large  fine  military  work  of  chiselled  stones, 
each  and  every  one  being  laid  with  the  skill  of 
finest  masonry.  It  was  begun  in  1844,  imme 
diately  upon  the  conclusion  of  the  Webster-Ash- 
burton  Treaty,  which  moved  our  national  line 
northward  from  Cumberland  Head  to  the  outlet  of 
the  lake,  which  gave  us  not  only  much  valuable 
territory,  but,  in  case  of  war  with  Great  Britain 
or  Canada,  a  strategic  position  absolutely  beyond 
price.  This  fort  is  not  completed,  and  never  will 
be,  I  trust.  "We  need  no  military  works  upon 
this  continent  along  the  line  which  divides  the 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.       107 

northern  from  the  southern  half  of  it. 
Whether  Canadians  or  States  men,  we  Ameri 
cans  are  one  in  destiny.  Our  race  character 
istics,  our  commercial  interests,  our  social 
customs,  our  political  habits  and  ambitions 
are  the  same.  Geographically;  the  American 
continent  is  a  unit,  and  the  great  people  who 
are  to  inhabit  it  for  centuries  to  come  must  be  a 
united  people.  Three  hundred  millions  south 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  thirty  millions  north 
of  it  are  an  impossibility.  If  in  their  igno 
rance  or  wilf illness  the  'smaller  section  would 
not  coalesce  with  the  larger,  it  would  surely  and 
shortly  be  overborne,  not  by  the  force  of  arms, 
perhaps,  but  by  the  pressure  of  competitive 
commerce,  the  preponderating  influences  of 
trade  and  literature,  and  those  social,  fiscal, 
and  political  forces  which  are  generated  by  a 
swift-moving  and  all-powerful  development.  Tt 
would  be  the  height  of  folly  for  Canadians  to 
ignore  continental  facts  and  forces,  and  set 
themselves  against  the  inevitable,  or  by  wrong 
ful  policies  seek  to  interrupt  the  flow  and  result 
of  natural  sequence.  And  it  is  nothing  short  of 
crime  for  our  representatives  at  Washington  to 


108  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

treat  the  so-called  Canadian  question  as  if  it 
were  one  of  present  paltry  gain  of  dollars  and 
cents,  whose  total  is  too  inconsiderable,  in  the 
great  bulk  of  national  commerce,  to  be  worthy 
of  attention.  Ottawa  and  Washington  should 
act  with  large  intelligence,  not  with  petty  scru 
tiny  of  petty  things,  and  with  one  great  thought 
ever  in  mind,  that  this  vast  continent  and  all 
the  people  on  it  are,  by  wise  management,  to  be 
welded  into  one  mighty  and  homogeneous  nation, 
and  that,  too,  speedily.  To  me  there  are  no 
Canadians  as  distinct  from  us  in  the  States.  I 
refuse  to  regard  them  in  that  light.  We  are, 
upon  this  continent,  already  seventy  millions  of 
Celtic,  Saxon,  and  German  blood  —  the  three 
bloods  that  rule  the  world  to-day,  and  are  to 
rule  it  for  all  the  future  —  and  we  are  all  Amer 
icans,  no  more  separate  than  Georgia  is  separate 
from  Vermont  or  New  York  from  Ontario. 
And,  hence,  I  say,  I  am  glad  that  Fort  Mont 
gomery  was  never  completed,  and  .trust  it  never 
will  be.  Its  casemates  and  its  cannon  represent 
the  past,  a  past  forever  dead  and  buried,  and  not 
the  present,  much  less  the  future.  There  has 
been  enough  of  war  and  blood  upon  the  Kiche- 


TRADITIONAL   AXD   HISTORIC   PERIOD.        109 

lieu.  Lot  there  be  no  more  forever.  For  cent 
uries  it  was  the  Riviere  aux  Iroquois,  and 
savages  made  it  a  river  of  blood.  Then  came 
the  white  man,  and  for  two  hundred  years  it 
was  the  river  Richelieu,  and  the  refined  barbar 
ism  of  cultured  courts,  plotting  cabinets,  and 
ambitious  ministers  crimsoned  its  current,  its 
sedges  and  its  lilies,  with  the  blood  of  armies. 
But  we  have  come  to  happier  times,  and  to-day 
the  pleasure  yacht,  the  happy  tourist,  the  heavy 
boat  of  commerce  type  it,  and  the  merry  laugh 
and  lover's  song,  in  the  place  of  rifle  and  cannon- 
shot,  are  heard  in  the  bright  daylight  and  the 
dewy  evening  between  its  maples  and  its  wil 
lows. 

Fort  Montgomery  can  but  be  of  great  inter 
est  to  the  tourist,  and  will  well  repay  a  visit  of 
inspection.  It  was  built  by  day's  work,  and 
under  inspection  of  officers  of  ability,  and  at  a 
cost,  even  as  it  stands,  of  over  three  millions  of 
dollars  to  the  government.  There  is  no  fortress 
in  the  country  that  will  give  a  visitor  a  better 
idea  of  what  a  first-class  military  work  is  than 
this  structure  at  the  outlet  of  Lake  Cliamplain. 
It  is  in  plain  view  from  the  Central  Vermont 


110  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

Railroad,  and  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
track.  Yachts  and  boats  can  approach  it  from 
the  water-side  to  the  very  walls ;  it  is  thus  most 
easy  of  access  to  the  travelling  public,  and  will 
prove  to  those  who  visit  it  a  most  instructive 
and  suggestive  spectacle. 

THE    RIVER    RICHELIEU. 

The  roots  of  a  nation's  history  are  in  its 
rivers.  They  were  its  earliest  pathways,  and 
its  infant  trade  was  nursed  upon  their  banks. 
On  them  its  pioneer  life  was  lived,  its  earliest 
battles  fought,  and  its  first  sufferings  borne. 
Along  their  banks  its  experimental  crops  were 
grown,  and  on  the  current  between  them  floated 
to  market.  The  rivers  of  a  land  are  its  most 
ancient  highways,  and  he  who  travels  observ- 
ingly  on  them  is  brought  face  to  face  with  the 

O    \J 

olden  times. 

The  Richelieu  —  all  unknown  as  it.  is  to  the 
average  American  —  is  a  marvel  among  rivers. 
There  is,  perhaps,  no  other  river  on  the  globe  of 
equal  length  that  can  match  it  with  traditions 
so  potent  to  cjuicken  the  imagination  or  with  a 
history  so  closely  connected  with  the  progress  of 


TRADITIONAL   AND   HISTORIC   PERIOD.       Ill 

the  human  race.  To  the  red  man  it  was  known 
as  the  Riviere  aux  Iroquois,  so  called  from 
Labrador  to  Lake  Huron,  because  the  savage 
Iroquois  used  it  as  the  great  highway  of  their 
hostile  forays  into  the  North.  In  the  skin  tent 
of  the  Esquimaux,  in  the  bark  wigwam  of  the 
Montagnais  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  in 
the  great  Indian  villages  of  Lake  Huron,  and  in 
the  buffalo-skin  tepee  of  the  Western  Indians, 
this  river  was  called  by  one  and  the  same 
name  —  the  name  of  their  dreaded  foes,  that  no 
distance  intimidated  and  no  opposition  appalled. 
There  was  no  river  on  the  continent  that  had  so 
wide  a  fame  before  the  white  man  came  as  this 
stream  which  delivers  the  waters  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain  into  the  St.  Lawrence. 

Then  came  the  white  man.  French  ambition 
builded  its  eyrie  on  the  lofty  and  bald  promon 
tory  of  Quebec.  Dutch  commerce  centred  its 
growing  trade  on  Manhattan  Island,  and  the 
Puritans  laid  the  foundations  of  a  common 
wealth,  around  Massachusetts  Bay.  And  for 
two  hundred  years  this  water-course  became 
the  great  highway  between  the  hostile  forces 
thus  gathered  at  the  North  and  the  South, 


112  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

Great  armies,  year  after  year,  toiled  up  and 
floated  down  its  stream.  Health  and  sickness, 
the  wounded  and  the  well,  the  living  and  the 
dying,  came  and  went  on  its  current.  Between 
its  verdant  banks,  first  of  white  men  who  ever 
saw  them,  came  Champlain.  Then  follow 
Frontenac,  Montcalm,  AYolfe,  Arnold,  Mont 
gomery,  Schuyler,  Sullivan,  Carlton,  Dieskau, 
Johnson,  Putnam,  Rogers,  and  all  the  great 
chiefs  and  scouts  of  the  old  wars.  All  these 
with  their  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of 
followers,  titled  and  unknown  alike,  came  and 
went  with  the  years  along  this  stream.  The 
great  Richelieu  and  the  greater  Pitt,  kings, 
generals  of  fame  and  noted  diplomats,  have 
all  studied  intently  the  rude  maps  on  which 
this  little  waterway  was  traced,  as  men  study 
the  cause  and  course  of  war,  and  the  way  to 
victory  and  empire.  There  is  Bloody  Isle, 
whose  sands  and  sedgy  reeds  have  many  a  time 
been  red  with  human  blood.  There  is  Isle  le 
Noix,  with  its  old  earthworks,  within  whose 
embankments  an  army  might  fight,  and  where 
many  an  army  has  stood.  The  elms  now  grow 
full  seventy  feet  in  height  upon  their  grassy 


TRADITIONAL   AXD   HISTORIC   PERIOD.        113 

curvature,  and  in  the  long  summer  days  white 
lambs  nibble  and  play  in  the  old  embrasures 
where  cannon  once  exploded.  There  is  the 
Cove  of  Death,  where  bloodiest  ambush  once 
was  made,  and  where  red  and  white  men  fought 
with  knife  and  tomahawk,  and  rifle-clubbed, 
until  the  shallow  channel  was  paved  with  bodies, 
so  thick  and  deep  that  the  living  made  of  them 
a  causeway  over  which  they  plunged  to  get  at 
each  other's  throats.  There  is  scarcely  a  curve 
in  this  stream,  or  point  reaching  out  into  it,  or 
isle  or  sandbar,  that  has  not  been  fought  over 
time  and  time  again  by  men  who  fought  each 
other  face  to  face  and  breast  to  breast.  I  doubt 
if  any  stretch  of  river  of  equal  length  in  any 
country  on  the  globe  has  so  much  of  history  in 
it  as  this  little  waterway  only  some  seventy 
miles  in  length,  known  as  the  Richelieu. 

And  yet,  how  little  is  this  fact  appreciated 
even  by  the  intelligent  portion  of  the  great 
Republic  whose  liberty  and  prosperity,  ay,  even 
whose  existence  as  an  historic  possibility,  more 
than  once  depended  on  the  fate  of  martial  ex 
peditions  that  came  and  went  along  its  tide  1 

Moreover,  it  is  a  most  lovely  river ;  lovely  to 


114  LAKE    C1IAMPLAIX. 

see  and  to  sail  on.  Next  to  the  Racquette,  as  it 
was  before  man  destroyed  its  beauty,  I  re 
member  it  as  as  lovely  a  bit  of  water  as  I  ever 
boated.  It  is  a  stream  of  gentle  current,  green 
flowery  banks  with  many  a  curve  and  charming 
stretch,  well  canopied  with  maples,  and  fringed 
with  shrubberies  that  scent  the  air  with  their 
sweet  odors.  It  is  an  easy  day's  paddle  or  sail 
from  the  lake  to  St.  John.  In  a  steam-launch 
it  could  be  made,  both  the  coming  and  the  go 
ing,  the  excursion  of  a  day.  To  all  who  read 
this  book,  I  commend  it  as  one  that  cannot  fail 
to  prove  most  enjoyable  in  the  act,  and  delight 
ful  in  reminiscence.  It  is  an  actual  loss  to  one 
who  loves  the  beautiful  or  appreciates  the  his 
toric,  not  to  have  traversed  this  section  of  the 
Richelieu. 


PART    II. 

THE   GREAT  NATIONAL   PARK. 


IF  the  reader  will  take  a  map  of  the  country, 
and,  beginning  at  Niagara  Falls,  draw  a  line 
eastward  to  Mount  Desert,  and,  with  this  as  the 
central  line,  construct  a  parallelogram,  he  will 
have  embraced  within  it  such  a  grouping  of 
natural  scenery  both  as  regards  sublimity  and 
beauty,  along  with  such  a  multitude  of  resources 
for  human  recreation  and  entertainment,  as  may 
not  be  found  elsewhere  in  connection,  either  on 
this  continent  or  in  Europe.  In  Niagara  lie 
beholds  a  world-renowned  marvel.  To  it  there 
is,  among  waterfalls,  no  rival  on  the  globe.  It 
is  a  majestic  appearance  of  nature.  In  its  awful 
exhibition,  majesty  and  sublimity  reveal  their 
highest  expression.  In  its  contemplation  the 
beholder  enjoys  an  experience  which  can  never 
be  repeated.  He  sees,  he  feels,  and  out  of  that 


116  LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 

seeing  and  feeling  there  grows  up  and  with 
him  remains  forever  a  magnificent  memory. 
Niagara  is  at  once  the  sublimest  of  spectacles 
and  the  most  impressive  of  recollections. 

Northward  of  the  great  cataract  flows  the 
St.  Lawrence  ;  a  river  which  surpasses  all  others 
in  the  world  in  the  mystery  of  its  origin,1  the 
length  and  number  of  its  tributaries,  the  enor 
mous  amount  of  water  it  delivers  to  the  ocean, 
the  evenness  of  its  flow,2  the  multitude  of  its 
rapids  and  islands ;  the  varied  loveliness  of  its 
riparian  scenery,  and  the  dim  traditions  and  his 
toric  memories  which  haunt,  like  summer  reflec 
tions  of  night  and  day,  its  glassy  stream. 

Thirty  years  ago  the  Thousand  Islands  were 
scarcely  known  to  the  American  public.  To-day 
they  are  noted  from  one  end  of  the  country  to 

1  The  Five  Great  Lakes  which  make  the  St.  Lawrence  a  geo 
graphical   wonder  are  themselves  a  mystery.      Geology    cannot 
explain  them.     Even  that  stupendous  Guess  known  as  the  Glacial 
Theory   loses   its  audacity  in   the  presence  of  these  phenomena. 
Even  its   imagination,  which  soars  like   the  frigate   bird   above 
human   knowledge  and  never  touches  earth,   tumbles   ignomini- 
ously  to  the  ground  as  it  comes  to  these  inland  oceans,  and  con 
fesses  it  is  unable  to  suggest  the  cause  of  these  stupendous  excava 
tions  at  the  level  centre  of  the  continent. 

2  It  is  said  that  the  St.  Lawrence  does  not  change  its  level  eight 
inches  the  whole  year  round. 


THE   GREAT   NATIONAL   PARK.  117 

the  other.  The  charm  of  their  tranquil  loveli 
ness  is  as  delightful  to  the  mind  as  the  specta 
cle  of  Niagara  is  appalling.  The  poet  and 
scholar,  the  artist  and  philosopher,  the  weary 
business  man  and  college  student,  the  angler  and 
tourist,  —  that  hiveless  bee  that  buzzes  from 
flower  to  flower  and  gathers  sweetness  only  for  his 
own  transient  entertainment,  —  wealth,  fashion, 
and  fame,  all  resort  to  this  picturesque  section 
of  the  noble  river,  as  fairies  of  every  order  are 
said  in  elfin  lore  to  gather  once  each  year  at  the 
most  lovely  centre  of  fairyland.  If  our  Eastern 
country  had  no  other  attractions  for  the  tourist 
and  lover  of  nature  than  Niagara  and  the 
Thousand  Islands,  these  alone  would  make  it 
famous,-  and  draw  from  the  South  and  West 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  visitors  each  year. 
But  what  may  we  say  of  the  Adirondacks, 
that  Venice  of  the  woods,  whose  highways  are 
rivers,  whose  paths  are  streams,  and  whose  car 
riages  are  boats  ?  Thirty  years  ago  they  were  a 
wilderness,  a  wild,  unvalued  section  of  the 
Empire  State,  unknown  and  unnoted  save  to 
a  few  sportsmen  and  their  guides.  Suddenly 
they  were  revealed.  A  little  volume  was  pub- 


118  LAKE   CHAMPLAIX. 

lished  which  told  of  their  extent,  their  charm 
ing  characteristics,  their  sanitarian  qualities,  and 
their  provisions  for  sport.  The  great,  ignorant, 
stay-at-home,  egotistic  world  laughed  and  jeered 
and  tried  to  roar  the  book  down.  They  called 
it  a  fraud  and  a  hoax.  The  pictorials  of  the 
day  blazoned  their  broadsides  with  caricatures  of 
"  Murray  and  his  fools."  Innumerable  articles 
were  written  to  the  press,  and  editorials  pub 
lished,  denying  that  there  was  any  such  extent 
of  woods  in  the  State,  any  such  number  of  lakes, 
any  such  phenomenal  connection  of  waterways, 
any  such  possibilities  of  pleasure  and  health  as 
the  little  book  portrayed.  It  should  be  remem 
bered  that  there  were  then  no  hotels  in  the 
woods,  no  railroad  facilities  of  entrance  and 
exit,  no  accommodation  for  sick  or  well,  no 
moneyed  interest,  as  there  is  to-day,  to  assist  the 
influence  of  that  first  publication.  But  the 
facts  of  geography  and  the  truth  of  nature  were 
in  it,  and  it  successfully  breasted  the  current 
of  adverse  criticism  and  hostile  comment,  of 
innuendo  and  jeer,  and  carried  the  fame  of  the 
woods  over  the  continent ;  and  to-day  there  is 
no  spot  betwixt  the  two  oceans  or  the  two 


THE   GREAT   NATIONAL   PARK.  119 

gulfs  better  known  or  more  loved  by  those  who 
visit  them  than  the  far-famed  Adirondacks. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  I  visited  them. 
And  since  I  kindled  my  last  campfire  on  the 
Racqnette  I  have  lighted  many  in  many  places, 
and  as  widely  apart  as  the  continent  would 
allow.  And  I  can  well  imagine  that  many 
changes  have  come  to  the  woods  whose  quietude 
and  loneliness  and  the  absence  of  the  coming 
and  going  of  men  made  them  so  attractive  to 
me  when,  in  other  years,  I  visited  them.  They 
even  say  that  the  little  wild  island  I  loved  in 
the  Racquette,  and  on  whose  ledge  of  rock, 
under  untouched  trees,  I  built  my  lodge,  has 
been  civilized  by  the  axe  and  the  plough,  and 
that  the  divine  silence  of  the  Sabbath  air  is 
jarred  into  discord  by  the  clang  and  rattle  of  a 
chapel  bell !  But,  in  spite  of  all  these  sad 
changes  and  profanations,  I  doubt  not  that  the 
woods  still  have  their  beauty,  the  mountains 
keep  their  majesties,  the  lakes  glass  storm  and 
shine  by  day  and  the  stars  at  night,  and  that 
the  pools  are  as  clear  and  cool  as  of  yore,  albeit 
they  lack  the  flash  and  gleam  of  finny  splendor 
which  shot  them  through  and  through  with  color 


120  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

in  the  days  when  I  checked  their  smooth  surface 
with  my  trailing  flies. 

Yes,  the  woods  are  still  there,  the  mountains 
abide,  the  lakes  murmur  converse  to  the  shores, 
the  rivers  flow  on,  the  pools  still  go  round,  and 
the  trees  in  the  warm  nights  drop  their  odorous 
gums  to  the  scented  mould,  as  they  did  when  I 
saw  and  heard  and  breathed  their  beauty  and 
perfume.  And  while  these  remain,  the  Adiron 
dack  wilderness  must  ever  be  what  it  is  to-day, 
the  most  unique,  picturesque,  charming,  and 
healthful  section  of  the  continent ;  the  one  place 
for  all  to  visit,  and  which  not  to  have  seen  is  to 
remain  untra veiled. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  the  Horicon,1  of 
Au  Sable  Chasm,  of  the  springs  of  Saratoga,  of 
the  valley  of  the  Le  Moile,  of  the  Green  Moun 
tains,  whose  ridges  should  be  white  with  hotels, 
of  the  Upper  Connecticut  and  Winnipiseogee,  of 
the  White  Mountains,  of  which  no  one  has 

1  I  do  not  insist  on  this  name,  but  I  do  insist  that  the  name  of 
the  coarse,  stupid  Hanoverian  King  of  England  shall  not  be  used 
to  designate  this  most  wild  and  impressive  of  American  lakes.  Lac 
St.  Sacrement  is  not  appropriate,  Lake  George  is  a  vulgarization, 
and,  if  it  cannot  be  known  as  Lac  aux  Iroquois  —  Lake  of  the  Iro- 
quois  —  which  is  doubtless  its  truest  name,  then  I  prefer  the  name 
that  Cooper  used  to  designate  it,  — the  Horicon  —  Silvery  Water. 


THE   GREAT   NATIONAL   PARK.  121 

written  fittingly  since  that  priest  of  God  and  of 
nature  both,  Starr  King,  died  ?  For  tlie  eve  that 
sees  not  only  the  outward  form  but  the  inner 
spirit  which  the  form  conceals  from  most ;  the 
ear  that  hears  not  only  the  undulating  sound 
which  strikes  all  ears  alike,  but  the  voice  which 
dwells  within  the  sound  and  is  alone  worth  hear 
ing  because  it  alone  signalizes  it  with  meaning  ; 
the  nose  which  distinguishes  between  the 
breaths  it  draws,  divides  common  from  uncom 
mon  air,  and  calls  that  only  worthy  of  praise 
that  is  distinguished  with  some  fine  quality  ;  a 
choice  perfume,  a  rare  fragrance,  a  pungent 
trace  of  ozone.  —  that  unembodied  vitalness 
breathed  into  lower  atmospheres  out  of  God's ; 
he  who  has  not  these  and  other  rare  gifts  is  not 
fitted  to  write  of  woods  and  waters,  of  lakes  and 
mountains,  of  day  and  night,  as  they  come  from 
and  go  into  eternity,  because  he  cannot  sense 
their  high  significance  or  materialize  their  fine, 
volatile  qualities  into  the  solid,  opaque  charac 
ters  of  human  language.  These  gifts  King  had, 
and.  had  he  lived,  he  would  have  interpreted 
the  White  Hills  as  they  deserve.  But,  alas,  he 
died,  killed,  as  was  the  poet  White,  by  the 


122  LAKE   CHAMPLAIX. 

fervid  zeal  of  his  own  genius ;  and  the  famous 
mountains  remain  without  a  prophet  until  this 
day. 

Within  this  parallelogram,  moreover,  are  the 
Rangeley  Lakes,  and  Moosehead  \  Bar  Harbor 
and  Mount  Desert,  and  Poland  Springs  ;  and 
nigh  to  its  southern  line  are  the  beaches  of  New 
Hampshire  and  Massachusetts,  Lexington  and 
Bunker  Hill.  And  fringing;  the  eastern  end  of 

O        o 

it  are  the  caribou  and  moose  regions  of 
northern  Maine  and  New  Brunswick,  the 
salmon  rivers  that  are  to  anglers  as  the  magnet 
is  to  grains  of  steel,  and  but  a  little  way 
beyond  lie  the  peaceful  meadows  of  Acadia, 
and  the  home  of  Evangeline. 

Now  at  the  centre  of  this  marvellous  paral 
lelogram,  crowded  as  it  is  with  wonders  of 
nature,  with  every  class  of  scenery  known  to 
mountains  and  forests,  rivers  and  lakes,  and 
provided  with  every  provision  for  sport  and 
recreation,  pleasure  and  health,  which  the  enter 
prise  and  money  of  men  can  provide,  is  located 
Lake  Champlain,  in  many  respects  the  most 
interesting  and  attractive  section  of  the  whole. 
It  is  characterized  by  the  length  and  breadth  of 


THE   GREAT   NATIONAL   PARK.  123 

its  waters  ;  the  multitude  and  loveliness  of  its 
islands  ;  the  majesty  of  its  surrounding  moun 
tains  ;  the  pastoral  beauty  of  its  shores,  and  the 
historic  memories  with  which  it  is  and  must 
ever  remain  in  vital  and  vivid  connection. 

For  the  lover  of  aboriginal  traditions  and 
relics  it  supplies  a  field  absolutely  unexplored. 
To  the  angler  it  gives  a  habitat  of  the  black 
bass  as  abundantly  stocked  as  any  other  stretch 
of  American  water.  To  the  yachtsman  it 
affords  opportunities  of  pleasure,  navigation, 
and  amateur  seamanship  as  ample  as  sound  or 
ocean  coast  supply,  while  to  the  canoeist  and 
canipist  it  extends,  in  its  bays  and  rivers,  its 
islands  and  its  shores,  its  golden  beaches  and 
bold  promontories,  ideal  conditions  of  recreation 
and  enjoyment,  and  the  health  which  comes  to 
those  who  love  the  outdoor  life  and  world. 

Nor  is  it  less  remarkable  for  its  connections. 
The  Adirondacks  come  to  its  western  beach,  and 
the  Green  Mountains  slope  gradually  down  to 
its  eastern  shore.  The  Chasm  of  the  Au  Sable 
is  within  easy  walk  of  it,  and  the  Horicon  is  its 
nigh  neighbor.  The  ruins  of  Ticonderoga  and 
Crown  Point  are  on  it,  and  the  delights  of  the 


124  LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

Hudson  within  a  few  hours'  travel,  while  by  its 
outlet  to  the  north  the  steam-launch  and  sailing- 
yacht  can  glide  downward  to  the  broad  St. 
Lawrence,  and  thence  go  upward  to  the  Thou 
sand  Islands  or  downward  to  Quebec,  Mont- 
morency,  and  the  Saguenay.  Its  waters  are 
traversed  by  steamers  that,  in  size  and  appoint 
ments,  are  excelled  only  by  the  floating  palaces 
of  Long  Island  Sound,  and  the  railways  that 
touch  it  at  many  points  enable  the  tourist  to 
pass,  by  day  or  night,  in  any  direction.  Intelli 
gently  estimated,  and  weighed  in  the  balance  of 
considerate  comparison,  it  is  the  most  beautiful 
lake  on  the  continent,  and  to  him  who  sees  it 
for  the  first  time  it  is  both  a  revelation  and  an 
education. 

Congress  may  resolve  and  newspaper  corre 
spondents  may  with  hasty  pen  declare  that 
this  or  that  spot,  distinguished  by  some  local 
phenomena,  shall  be  known  as  the  National 
Park,  but  neither  formal  resolution  nor  hasty 
verdict  of  casual  writers  can  change  the  geog 
raphy  of  the  continent  or  the  facts  of  nature ; 
and  these  declare  —  and  with  an  emphasis  that 
cannot  be  misunderstood  or  unheeded  by  the 


THE   GREAT   NATIONAL   PARK.  125 

intelligent --that  the  Great  National  Park,  for 
the  whole  American  people,  lies  within  the  lines 
of  the  parallelogram  I  have  suggested,  and  to  it 
there  is  not  now,  and  never  can  be,  on  the  con 
tinent,  a  rival.  Niagara,  the  Thousand  Islands, 
the  Adirondacks,  the  Horicon,  Champlain  with 
its  battle  memories,  the  White  Mountains,  and 
the  coast  of  Maine  are  all  in  it,  and  there  they 
will  remain  forever.  These  great  and  admira 
ble  objects  of  nature  can  never  be  removed 
either  to  the  south  or  west,  but  will  abide  where 
God  has  placed  them ;  and  to  them,  to  see.  to 
admire,  to  marvel,  and  enjoy,  will  the  thousands 
and  millions  of  the  American  people  who  love 
nature  and  have  reverence  for  shrines  annually 
journey. 

It  was  on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic  that  the 
Republic  was  born.  Here  was  she  cradled,  and 
here  was  her  early  loveliness  grown.  The 
American  people  know  this  fact,  and  to  the 
East  will  the  millions  continue  to  come  as  to 
the  birthplace  of  the  nation.  The  continental 
lines  of  travel  will  cross  the  continent  from 
ocean  to  ocean,  not  from  gulf  to  gulf,  and  the 
millions  upon  millions  that  are  in  the  years  to 


126  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

come  to  people  the  prairies  and  valleys  of  the 
Great  West  will  seek  recreation  and  pleasure 
among  the  hills  and  lakes,  the  rivers  and 
mountains,  of  the  section  I  have  suggested, 
and  which  is,  by  nature  and  fact,  and  is  des 
tined  to  be  called,  The  Great  National  Park 
of  the  Republic. 

If  those  who  now  control  the  present  lines  of 
travel,  and  who,  with  their  successors,  should 
naturally  construct  the  additional  accommoda 
tions  as  called  for,  are  wise,  they  will  do  well 
to  bear  in  mind  that  the  places  the  people  want 
to  see  are  here  in  the  East,  and  that  the  great 
bulk  of  the  people  who  would  fain  see  them 
are  in  the  West.  The  places  are»  here,  the 
people  are  there,  and  how  to  bring  people  and 
places  together  easily  and  quickly  is  the  prob 
lem  for  them  to  solve.  The  pleasure  resorts  of 
which  we  have  spoken  find  their  patrons  to-day 
chiefly  from  the  cities  of  the  Atlantic  Coast. 
But  the  population  east  of  the  Alleghanies  and 
the  Great  Lakes  is  but  a  small  fraction  of  the 
mighty  total  which  represents  the  nation.  The 
sceptre  of  numbers  has  already  passed  to 
the  prairies,  and  the  sceptre  of  wealth  is-  sure 


THE   GREAT   NATIONAL   PARK.  127 

to  follow.  But  wliat  are  these  compared  with 
those  great  centres  of  population  which  will  be 
grouped  here  and  there  clean  across  the  great 
basin  which  extends  westward  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains  ?  It  is  not  beyond  reason  to  believe 
that  at  least  one  of  those  Western  cities  will 
have,  within  fifty  years,  more  inhabitants  than 
Philadelphia,  New  York,  and  Boston  combined. 
If  the  causes  which  have  given  London  its  five 
millions  are  not  so  exceptional  as  never  to 
be  operant  again  or  elsewhere,  then  is  it  as 
certain  as  the  sun  shines  that  Chicago,  at 
some  period  not  remote,  will  have  within  her 
corporate  limits  from  ten  to  fifteen  millions 
of  people. 

If  the  Republic  endures  in  peace  and  prosper 
ity,  there  surely  will  be  gathered  within  two 
centuries  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Michigan  a 
city  which  for  the  wealth  and  number  of  its 
citizens,  the  magnificence  of  its  appearance,  and 
the  power  of  the  forces  it  represents,  has  never 
been  equalled  since  men  were  grouped  into 
nations,  felt  the  force  of  centralization,  and 
built  cities  to  express  the  grandeur  of  their 
ambitions  and  the  glory  of  their  civilization. 


128  LAKE    CIIAMPLAIX. 

The  old  New-England  nests  are  empty  and 
cold  because  the  young  birds  which  once  rilled 
and  warmed  them  with  life  have  flown  abroad. 
With  their  wings  came  longings,  and  singly  and 
in  flocks  they  went  forth  to  find  new  places  for 
new  nests  and  new  colonies.  But  the  lines  of 
their  flight  were  not  hidden,  and  the  world 
knows  whither  they  went  and  where  they  are. 
But  with  them  went  love  for  the  old  places  and 
memory  ;  and  the  sons  and  daughters  of  New 
England  remember  her  mountains  and  her 
lakes,  her  rivers  and  her  shores,  and  the  homes 
of  their  fathers.  Nor  will  they  ever  forget  her 
hilltops  and  her  valleys.  These  and  their  de 
scendants  still  see  the  stars  of  the  East  and 
love  them,  and  while  blood  is  thicker  than 
water  and  prosperity  abides  with  the  nation,  a 
long  and  ever  growing  procession  of  men  and 
women,  half  pilgrims  and  half  tourists,  will 
with  the  coming  of  summer  and  autumn  jour 
ney  eastward  to  see  the  fields  and  woods,  the 
lakes  and  hills  that  their  forefathers  saw,  and 
rekindle  the  torch  of  family  affection  at  the 
hearthstones  of  their  ancestors.  The  West  and 
the  East  of  the  nation  stand  connected  as 


THE   GREAT   NATIONAL   PARK.  129 

children  are  connected  with  parents  and  midday 
is  related  to  morning. 

I  foresee  the  day,  not  as  remote  but  nigh, 
when  the  Great  Lakes  shall  be  utilized  for  the 
purposes  of  pleasure  as  fully  as  for  traffic;  when 
magnificent  steamers  shall  take  the  summer 
tourists  at  Chicago  wharves  and  transport  them 
eastward  ;  when  the  Thousand  Islands  and 
Niagara  shall  be  in  direct  water  connection  for 
excursionists  from  the  West ;  when  long  trains 
of  palace  cars  shall  run  direct,  without  change, 
from  Chicago,  St.  Louis,  Minneapolis,  and 
Denver  to  the  Adirondacks.  Lake  Champlain, 
and  the  White  Mountains ;  the  lovely  Winni- 
pesaukee,  the  lakes  of  Maine  and  its  celebrated 
beaches  ;  when  the  great  pleasure  resorts  of 
the  nation,  which  are  here  and  ever  will 
remain  here  in  the  East,  will  be  in  as  direct 
and  facile  connection  with  the  cities  of  the 
West  as  are  Philadelphia,  New  York,  and 
Boston  to-day;  and  T  anticipate  that  this  annual 
visitation  of  thousands  from  the  West  to  the 
East,  as  prompted  by  the  love  of  pleasure,  of 
health  and  ancestral  memories,  will  not  be  the 
least  among  those  unifying  forces  upon  which 


130  LAKE    CIIAMPLAIX. 

we  must  rely  to  preserve  the  great  Republic,  as 
its  millions  multiply,  in  the  unity  which  is  born 
from  and  maintained  by  mutual  acquaintance 
and  affection  between  its  widely  separated 
sections. 


PART   III. 

LAKE     CHANPLA1N    AND     THE    FACILITIES 
IT   OFFERS   TO    YACHTSMEN. 


EACH  summer  the  tide  of  travel  on  the 
Atlantic  slope  sets  with  a  stronger  and  deeper 
current  northward.  The  mountains  and  the 
sea,  the  woods  and  the  beaches  are  in  rivalry, 
and  slowly  but  surely  the  mountains  and  the 
woods  are  winning.  The  cities  of  the  seaboard 
are  like  ovens  each  summer,  and  thousands 
come  pouring  out  of  them  when  driven  by  the 
awful  heat,  crying,  "  Whither  shall  we  go  ?  " 

To  the  seashore  ?  Certainly,  if  you  cannot 
iind  a  better  resort ;  but  all  of  us  know  that 
the  seashore  is  but  little  better  than  the  oven, 
and  often  worse.  The  dead  glare,  hour  after 
hour,  on  the  level  and  blistering  sea ;  the  rank 
smells  of  the  marsh  bogs  and  the  oozy  flats 
steaming  stenchfully  under  the  hot  rays  when 
the  tide  is  out ;  the  night  fogs  and  chilly,  damp 


132  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN". 

mornings ;  the  soppy  mists  which  roll  their 
wetness  even  into  your  sleeping-chamber ;  and 
then  the  dismal,  rainy  mornings  when  the  grass 
is  as  seaweed  and  all  the  trees  drip  cheerlessly, 
oh,  I  know  well  what  the  much-lauded  seashore 
is,  for  I  was  born  on  it. 

Lord  Byron  is  the  only  one  who  ever  made 
the  sea  attractive.  He  pitched  the  resonance  of 
his  verse  to  the  keynote  of  its  thunder,  and 
sent  the  jar  and  terror  of  its  waves  through  the 
structure  of  his  stanzas,  so  that  they  roll  and 
reel  and  come  tumbling  down  upon  you  as  you 
read,  as  billows  upon  a  beach  —  thunderingly. 
He  too,  gifted  being  as  he  was,  could  catch  its 
softer  moods  and  make  its  whispers  run  along 
his  lines  so  coyly  and  soothingly  that  the  reader 
is  made,  perforce,  to  admire  its  majesties  and 
gentleness.  But  all  the  time,  if  you  be  a  coast- 
born  man,  you  have  an  uneasy  feeling  that  the 
poet  is  fooling  you  —  that  it  is  all  false  and  not 
true  which  you  are  reading  ;  a  poetic  fiction  and 
not  the  actual  fact. 

And  that  is  the  case  truly.  For  the  sea  is 
murderous,  cruel,  and  catlike  in  its  treacherous 
habits,  and  all  shore  men  know  it.  It  tempts 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  133 

one  out  upon  its  surface,  toys  with  you  for  an 
hour  most  pleasantly  to  yourself ;  then  sud 
denly  and  fiercely  tosses  you  up,  and  you,  coin 
ing  down  beneath  an  overturned  boat,  —  why, 
the  "  beautiful  sea  "  has  enriched  its  vast  death- 
chamber  with  another  corpse  ! 

Two  yachtsmen,  after  storm, — out  of  whose 
clutch  their  yacht  had  been  wrenched  as  by  the 
hand  of  God,  —  were  strolling  on  a  beach  one 
morning,  with  the  dear  old  pines  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  dread  billows  still  rolling  hungrily 
on  the  other,  when,  clambering  around  a  point 
of  slippery  rocks,  they  suddenly  saw,  half 
embedded  in  the  sand,  two  white  faces  lying 
side  by  side.  A  man's  and  woman's  face,  both 
young,  lying  so  closely  that  the  pale  cheeks 
almost  touched.  Doubtless  they  had,  when 
warm  with  life,  touched  each  other  lovingly  a 
thousand  times,  for  surely  these  two  lying 
thus  on  a  foreign  beach,  a  thousand  leagues 
from  home,  were  lovers,  death-mated.  They 
were  young  emigrants  seeking  by  faith 
another  and  a  better  country.  God  grant 
they  found  it ! 

See  his  strong  boots  reaching  heavily  above 


134  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

the  knee,  and  her  stout  shoes.  But  how  shapely 
the  full  foot  within,  and  how  finely  death  has 
marbled  it  in  beauty !  Poor,  brave  little  foot, 
thou  didst  come  to  the  end  of  thy  journey  sud 
denly.  Thy  sunrise  was  thy  noonday  and 
thine  evening  too  !  See  the  sand  in  the  man's 
beard.  The  sand  is  so  like  the  hair  in  color 
that  thou  must  look  close  to  see  the  sifted 
grains.  And  the  young  woman's,  what  a  sable 
wealth  was  given  her  for  ornament !  How 
could  hers  be  so  black,  she  being  a  German 
girl  ?  Or  was  there  in  her  veins  a  dash  of  that 
old  race,  older  than  Egypt's,  who  for  unnum 
bered  ages  dwelt  where  Spain  now  is  ;  who, 
tradition  says,  conquered  the  world,  and  the 
swarth  beauty  of  whose  women  can  be  found 
here  and  there  to-day  on  every  shore  of  the 
round  earth  ?  I  know  not.  I  only  know  that 
two  yachtsmen  found  one  morning  two  faces 
lying  half  embedded  in  the  sand ;  one  of  a 
man,  the  other  a  woman's  ;  the  man's  beauti 
fully  blond,  the  woman's  gloriously  dark  ; 
lying  so  closely  each  to  the  other  that  they 
almost  touched,  and  KO  saying,  '•  Oh,  finder  of 
us,  we  are  two  lovers  murdered  by  the  dreadful 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  135 

sea  ;  but  we  kissed  each  other  in  the  white  surf 
out  yonder  before  we  died/' 

But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  unseen  faces  — 
the  faces  that  disappear  in  storm  and  wreck 
and  are  never  found  ?  Have  I  not  time  and 
again  sat  on  the  gray  rocks  b}~  the  sea  line  with 
closed  eyes  and  seen  them  stretch  away  in  rows, 
a  hundred,  a  thousand  white  faces,  all  having  the 
same  white,  rigid  look  on  them?  Yes,  I  have 
seen  the  bottom  of  the  sea  revealed  —  a  hell  of 
sight --the  still  white  faces,  and  above  and 
among  them  the  dreadful  creatures  that  eat 
them  —  the  creatures  that  make  the  life  of  the 
sea ;  the .  eyeless  and  sightless  things  that  are 
directed  in  their  courses  by  other  senses  than 
that  of  sight.  You  love  the  sea  ?  Love  it 
then  in  your  ignorance,  and  thank  God  you  are 
ignorant,  or  else  can  see  nothing  save  the  sur 
face.  A  great  and  dreadful  deceit  is  the  sea, 
and  we  who  have  sailed  on  it  know  it. 

But  the  .woods,  the  dear,  frank,  innocent 
woods.  God  bless  them !  They  kill  no  one. 
At  their  sweet  roots  no  lovers,  sleeping,  die. 
Along  their  green  edges  no  man  and  maiden  lie 
side  by  side,  dead,  killed  by  their  treachery. 


136  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

Once  in  a  hundred  years,  perhaps,  one  man, 
and  he  by  accident,  is  killed  by  the  falling  of  a 

*/  «/o 

tree --some  poor,  dead  tree  that  could  not 
stand  one  instant  longer,  nor  help  from  falling 
just  then  and  there.  Ay,  the  dear  woods  that 
kill  no  one,  tempt  no  one,  but  rather  warn  you 
to  keep  out  of  their  depths,  near  their  bright 
margins,  where  the  sun  shines,  flowers  bloom, 
and  open  spaces  are ;  the  woods  that  cool  you 
so  with  their  stored  coolness ;  rest  you  so  with 
their  untaxed  restfulness;  that  never  moan  of 
nights  because  they  have  killed  any  one,  but 
rather  because  any  one,  for  any  cause,  must  be 
killed,  the  world  over.  Yes,  yes.  John  was 
right.  There  will  be  "no  sea  there!"  Had 
he  been  shipwrecked  ?  Had  he  some  morning 
strolling  on  the  beaches  of  the  Isle  of  Patmos 
found  two  white  faces  embedded  in  the  sand  ? 
No  matter  from  what  cause  or  by  what  awful 
fact  inspired  with  shrinking,  the  old  Divine 
Dreamer  sensed  the  truth.  Man  has  wreck  and 
death  enough  here.  It  is  only  just  that  he 
should  journey  beyond  it  when  he  enters  the 
vast  hereafter. 

I  predict,  therefore,   that   the   great  tide  of 


YACHTIXG  FACILITIES.  137 

American  travel  will  soon  set  northward  away 
from  the  treacherous,  murderous,  dirty  sea,  to 
the  frank,  clean  woods  that  are  inland,  and 
which  make  all  this  far  north  country  sweet 
with  their  odorous  gums,  even  to  the  white  line 
where  snow  never  melts.  Oh.  if  I  might  only 
spend  my  years  beneath  the  trees,  eat  under 
them,  sleep  under  them,  work,  dream,  and  die 
under  them  !  How  strange  that  when  Heaven 
waits  only  on  the  decision  of  our  wills  we  refuse 
to  say  the  word  or  take  the  step,  and  so  adjourn 
it  indefinitely  until  by  the  passage  of  that  swift 
force  which  we  name  death  we  are  pushed  sud 
denly  out  of  our  hesitation  and  are  in  our 
heaven,  perhaps  "  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye." 

What  companionship  there  is  in  trees !  Who 
ever  saw  two  alike?  This  one  —  a  mighty 
trunk  —  is  vast  and  round,  and  smooth  as  an 
Egyptian  column.  Yonder  there  stands  a  group, 
seven  in  all,  grave  as  statesmen,  — 

"On  whose  ivied  bro\vs  the  cares  of  nations  sit." 

The  central  one  suggests  the  Websterian  type, 
strong,  rough,  and  massive.  Others  yonder  are 
sprightly,  suave,  and  pliant,  polite,  insinuating ; 


138  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

while  others,  on  that  island  there,  are  simply 
gigantic  posts  with  sap  in  them,  that  stand  like 
the  old  Dutch  burghers  in  heaviest  armor,  per 
fectly  symbolizing  the  old  Dutch  motto,  "  Made 
to  stand,  not  run."  Not  a  bad  motto,  friend, 
by  which  to  shape  the  character  of  your  boy  in 
these  fickle  times  of  ours.  And  then,  how 
chatty  trees  can  be.  Naturalists  tell  us  that  in 
all  forms  of  life  there  is  sex.  The  trees  are, 
therefore,  male  and  female,  and  have  their  court 
ships  and  their  wooings  too.  Perhaps  there  are 
flirtations  among  them ;  who  can  tell  ?  If  so, 
how  delicious  they  must  be,  for  their  conceal 
ment  is  so  perfect ! 

I  take  it  that,  all  things  considered,  yachting 
is  the  most  healthful  and  manly  recreation  a 
man  can  take,  and  that,  in  all  the  conditions  of 
enjoyment  to  the  average  lover  of  nature,  yacht 
ing  in  inland  waters  is  superior  to  yachting  on 
the  outer  seas.  Foi;  inland  boating,  while  the 
yachtsman,  beyond  doubt,  misses  the  impressive 
grandeur  of  the  outer  sea,  its  magnificent  exhi 
bitions  of  force  and  the  grave  majesty  of  its 
vast  spaces,  he  is,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
recipient  of  many  favors  which  appeal  delight- 


YACIITIXG  FACILITIES.  139 

fully  to  his  senses  and  minister  in  a  rare  degree 
to  his  mind  and  soul. 

To  an  American  yachtsman,  especially,  inland 
yachting  has  a  peculiar  charm,  and  yields  him 
a  singular  enjoyment.  His  is  the  only  country 
inhabited  by  civilized  nations  which,  in  its  size 
and  facilities  of  water  communication,  is  conti 
nental.  To  say  that  a  yacht  of  eight  or  ten 
tons  can  be  sailed  by  a  party  of  tourists  four  or 
five  thousand  miles  without  passing  out  of  inland 
waters,  and  never  over  the  same  course  twice, 
is  a  statement  calculated  to  astound  a  European, 
and  even  an  American,  we  fancy,  would  have 
to  look  up  his  geography  a  little  to  credit  it. 
But,  if  he  will  take  his  map,  he  will  see  at  a 
glance  how  easily  the  thing  can  be  done,  and 
that  the  five  thousand  miles  can  easily  be  made 
ten  thousand,  if  the  party  can  extend  its  vaca 
tion  time  a  month  or  so.  Burlington,  or  rather 
this  lake  lying  in  front  of  Burlington,  is  the 
natural  centre  and  starting-point  for  such  mag 
nificent  touring.  It  is  large  enough  to  supply 
facilities  for  aquatic  training  requisite  for  such 
as,  not  having  it,  must  prepare  themselves  for 
these  splendid  voyages.  It  is  the  only  lake  in 


140  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

all  this  east  country  of  ours  that  can  serve  as  a 
school  in  which  practical  knowledge  of  yachts 
and  yachting  can  be  taught.  It  is,  moreover,  so 
placed  as  to  be  easily  accessible  from  the  great 
seaboard  cities,  from  which  the  majority  of  our 
true  tourists  and  sportsmen  come.  It  is  sur 
rounded  by  natural  scenery  of  the  highest 
order.  Its  shores  and  bays  are  alive  with  his 
toric  memories,  which  quicken  patriotism  and 
ennoble  the  character  of  whosoe'er  receives  their 
inspiration.  Here  are  ruins  of  ancient  forts. 
Here  the  lines  of  old-time  earthworks  still  stand. 
Here  nature  has  accumulated  chasm,  gorge,  and 
mountains  for  the  lover  of  the  grand  and  pic 
turesque  to  admire,  and  he  who  sails  its  blue 
water  recalls  that  in  days  that  are  past  the 
two  most  martial  races  of  all  the  world,  and  the 
two  rival  civilizations  of  modern  times,  stood 
for  a  hundred  years  in  arms,  and  contended 
fiercely  for  no  less  a  prize  than  the  possession 
of  the  American  continent.  Verily,  what  other 
lake  can  offer  the  young  yachtsman  the  oppor 
tunity  to  learn  the  art  of  sailing  his  little  craft 
safely  amid  such  enjoyable  and  inspiriting  sur 
roundings  as  can  this  one,  located  as  it  is  nigh 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  141 

the  great  centres  of  our  population,  and  amid 
the  noblest  sights  of  nature  ? 

Observe,  moreover,  the  water  connections  of 
this  lovely  and  extended  lake.  Sailing  hence, 
the  yachtsman  finds  an  easy  outlet  through  the 
Richelieu  River  to  the  St.  Lawrence  —  that 
marvellous  stream  along  whose  level  channel 
half  the  fresh  water  of  the  globe,  it  is  said,  is 
poured  downward  to  the  sea.  The  Richelieu 
River  takes  him  to  the  St.  Lawrence ;  down  its 
broad  current  he  descends  to  Quebec,  whose 
prominence  in  American  history  lifts  it  more 
loftily  before  the  student's  mind  than  the  rocky 
promontory  on  which  it  stands  lifts  it  before 
his  eyes.  Downward  still  he  floats  until  he 
beholds  Montrnorenci's  fleecy  falls,  whose  waters 
leap  from  a  loftier  height  than  Niagara  plunges. 
Below  he  finds  the  shrine  of  St.  Anne,  around 
which  pilgrims  by  the  thousand  kneel  each  year, 
and  realize  the  miraculous  powers  of  heaven, 
as  the  suppliants  are  said  to  have  realized  it  of 
old.  Still  downward  he  sails  past  the  Isle  of 
Bacchus,  as  Jacques  Cartier  called  the  beautiful 
island  we  have  foolishly  dubbed  the  Isle  of 
Orleans ;  past  the  huge  bulk  of  Tourmente, 


142  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

until  we  come  abreast  of  the  stupendous  exhibi 
tion  of  nature  called  the  entrance  to  the 
Saguenay,  and  creep  inward  through  the  gloomy 
portal  to  such  a  vision  as  mortal  man  never 
shuddered  at  elsewhere.  And  what  shall  we 
say  of  the  sail  up  this  strange  and  solemn 
waterway,  which  the  old  mariners  verily  be 
lieved,  and  plainly  stated,  led  to  hell  —  or  of 
Tadousac,  that  oldest  town  site,  perhaps,  on  the 
continent ;  or  of  the  Riviere  du  Loup,  where,  in 
the  warm  lush  summer  days,  the  government 
of  Canada  and  gathered  aristocracy  hold  high 
carnival,  and  politicians  play  lawn  tennis  and 
croquet,  while  playing  far  deeper  games  and 
for  nobler  prizes  than  these  light  ones  can  yield  ? 
Or  of  Dalhousie,  far,  far  below,  where  the  Bay 
of  Chaleur  invites  and  warns  the  yachtsman, 
and  the  most  stupendous  fossil  trees  on  all  the 
globe  lie  half  embedded  in  the  worn  banks  for 
the  tourist  to  gaze  and  marvel  at?  Verily  is 
not  this  an  excursion  the  like  of'  which  has 
never  been  taken  by  any  party  on  this  conti 
nent  ?  And  when  the  little  yacht  comes  sailing 
back  from  this  fair  cruise,  should  she  not  be 
cheered  right  roundly  for  the  demonstration  she 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  143 

has  made  ;  a  demonstration  in  the  interest  of 
outdoor  life  and  sport,  and  of  all  who  love  the 
airs  of  health,  the  sights  and  sounds  of  nature, 
and  would  fain  encourage  and  advance  the 
innocent  pleasures  of  the  world  and  help  set 
the  fashion,  which,  if  followed  for  a  few  genera 
tions  by  the  people,  will  fill  the  land  with  fair 
women  and  manly  men  ? 

Or  if  the  party  he  of  those  who  love  the 
"gentle  art,"  what  a  voyage  it  would  be  !  For 
is  there  better  ground  for  rod  and  reel  than 
Cham  plain  and  the  tributaries  of  the  St.  Law 
rence  afford  ?  Black  bass  —  what  true  angler 
does  not  love  the  sturdy  fish  that  "  fights  it 
out "  to  the  bitter  end,  and  yields  the  battle 
only  with  his  life  ?  And  are  there  nineteen 
miles  of  coast,  from  Quebec  downward  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Kestigouche  and  the  Miramichi,. 
that  he  does  not  sail  past  the  mouth  of  streams 
that  are  the  haunt  of  salmon  and  sea  trout, 
while  every  tumbling  torrent  on  either  shore  is 
full  of  spotted  trout,  that  jump  for  joy  to  see 
the  "fair  deceit"  trail  past  their  cool  retreats? 
Verily  the  true  angler  should  love  the  little 
yacht  that  can  thus  waft  him  to  such  sport,  and 


144  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

bring  him  cheerily  home  with  flowing  sails  from 
scenes  and  victories  which  will  keep  the  torch 
of  memory  aglow,  and  brighten  with  its  gentle 
ray  the  darkness  of  descending  years.  Or  if 
he  loves  the  rifle,  and  is  not  timid  of  the  autumn 
gale,  can  he  land  on  either  shore  for  a  hundred 
leagues  and  not  be  in  the  very  home  of  the 
moose  and  the  caribou,  and  on  waters  speckled 
with  ducks  and  geese  and  brant  ?  Or,  if  he 
loves  the  silent  forests,  the  blazed  line,  and  the 
untrodden  mosses  of  deep  woods,  can  he,  not 
push  his  solitary  trail  northward  to  the  Lake 
St.  John,  and  farther  yet  —  if  he  be  ambitious 
and  fearless  —  to  that  recently  rediscovered 
lake  known  to  the  Jesuits,  but  lost  to  human 
knowledge  for  two  hundred  years,  the  mysteri 
ous  Mistassinni  ?  Surely  here,  in  this  vast 
region,  stretching  clean  from  the  northern  bank 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Hudson  Bay,  the  born 
woodsman  can  find  the  loneliness  he  loves,  and 
the  furred  animals  in  whose  capture  he  finds 
full  exercise  of  his  skill  and  the  vigorous 
pleasure  of  watchful,  busy  days  and  weird 
nights.  And  all  these  pleasures,  and  many 
beside,  can  be  had  by  him  who  owns,  and  sails 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  145 

knowingly,  his  little  yaclit  with  a  month's 
leisure  at  his  command, 'from  the  blue  waters  of 
Burlington  Bay. 

But  one  does  not  need  to  sail  beyond  the 
waters  of  Lake  Champlain  itself  to  find  enjoy 
ment  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting.  For  here 
one  can  find,  in  the  highest  degree,  experiences 
to  satisfy  both  soul  and  sense.  The  lake  is  large 
enough  to  accommodate  the  yachtsman  with 
a  month's  cruising,  during  which  no  day  shall 
be  a  repetition  of  the  preceding  ones.  Of  all  the 
lakes  in  our  great  country,  Champlain  is,  by 
common  consent  of  those  acquainted  with  its 
characteristics,  the  most  beautiful.  The  Horicon 
is  certainly  the  most  charming  and  picturesque, 
but  it  lacks  breadth  of  view,  and  affords  the  eye 
no  grandeur  of  perspective.  It  is  pent,  con 
fined,  and  too  closely  fenced  by  the  hills  and 
mountains  which  rise  from  its  very  shore  line,  to 
allow  the  eye  to  gaze  widely  and  far  off.  I 
have  camped  and  boated  on  it  much  and  often, 
and  am  free  to  confess  that  after  a  few  weeks 
I  always  wearied  of  it,  and  longed  for  a  wider 
stretch  of  water  and  those  perspectives  of 
vision  which,  because  of  their  dim  distance. 


146  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

perhaps,  and  the  changes  in  line  and  color,  never 
tire  or  appear  the  same,  as  the  days  multiply. 
Memphremagog  and  Winnipesaukee  are  most 
lovely  bits  of  inland  water,  but  they  also  are 
too  small  and  otherwise  unfitted  for  yachting. 
You  can  picnic,  but  you  cannot  journey  on  them, 
and  a  perpetual  picnic  is  as  tiresome  as  a  per 
petual  camp-meeting.  But  Lake  Champlain  lias 
width  and  length,  broad  spaces  and  extensive 
views.  You  can  sail  one  hundred  and  thirty 
miles  in  a  straight  line  from  north  to  south ;  its 
bays  are  many  and  deep,  and  each  has  its  char 
acteristics  which  distinguish  it  from  the  others, 
and  make  for  the  artistic  eye  a  separate  study, 
and  give  to  the  lover  of  the  beautiful  in  nature 
a  fresh  and  pleasurable  sensation.  Then,  too, 
from  what  other  lake  in  all  the  land  can  one 
behold  such  mountain  scenery  as  from  Cham- 
plain  ?  To  the  west  for  one  hundred  miles,  loom 
the  Adirondacks,  with  their  myriad  peaks  cloud- 
capped  or  clearly  outlined  against  the  farther 
sky.  To  the  east  the  Green  Mountains,  far 
enough  away  to  show  at  their  best,  lift  their 
lofty  sides,  verdant  to  their  summits ;  while  in 
the  lake  itself  float  islands  of  all  shapes  and 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  147 

sizes,  from  the  pillar  of  brown  rock  tufted  with 
its  dwarf  pines,  to  Grand  Isle,  to  circle  which 
you  must  fetch  a  circuit  of  fifty  miles.  Cham- 
plain  is  no  pond,  no  narrow,  petty  lake  even, 
but  a  great  body  of  long,  wide  water,  where 
winds  can  blow  and  blue  waves  roll  as  on  some 
deep,  broad  arm  of  the  sea  itself.  Moreover, 
Lake  Champlain  is  historic  to  a  degree  beyond 
any  other  body  of  water  in  America.  At 
Tadousac,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  and 
at  Quebec,  the  student  senses  the  antique  as  the 
nose  inhales  the  aroma  of  flowers  blown  through 
the  air  by  noiseless  winds  from  afar.  But  be 
fore  Quebec  was  founded,  Champlain's  arque 
bus,  right  opposite  Burlington  here,  had  shed 
Iroquois  blood,  and  started  a  terrible  echo 
among  the  hills  above  Crown  Point,  which  died 
not  away  until  it  was  finally  drowned  by  the 
crash  of  Wolfe's  musketry  on  the  Plains  of 
Abraham,  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  later. 
From  the  northern  end  of  this  famous  lake,  up 
the  Kichelieu  came  Frontenac,  came  Montcalm, 
came  Burgoyne,  came  all  those  great  martial 
movements,  whether  under  French  or  English 
banners,  which,  during  the  early  or  later  wars, 


148  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIK 

threatened  the  whole  south  country,  which 
flowed  victoriously  on,  and  were  not  stopped 
until  the  Hudson  itself  was  sighted  from  the 
ruins  of  Fort  William  Henry  and  the  heights 
above  Saratoga.  Along  these  shores  on  the 
west,  Putnam  and  Rogers  scouted  and  fought. 
Here  is  Plattsburg  Bay  and  Cumberland  Head, 
where  Macdonough  fought  his  glorious  fight. 
Here,  off  Vergennes,  chased  by  the  English 
admiral,  Arnold  fired  his  ship,  whose  timbers 
can  be  seen  through  the  clear  waters  to-day. 
Here  is  Ticonderoga,  in  front  of  whose  fatal 
abattis  Abercrombie  left  two  thousand  of  his 
bravest  dead,  and  within  whose  walls  Ethan 
Allen  demanded  its  surrender  "  in  the  name  of 
God  and  the  Continental  Congress."  But  why 
enumerate  ?  There  is  scarcely  a  bay  or  promon 
tory  upon  the  lake  that  has  not  some  historic 
recollections  clustering  around  it,  half  of  them 
unwritten.  For  here  History  sits  holding  her 
unlettered  scroll,  waiting  for  some  Prescott  or 
Parkman  to  write  upon  them  the  marvellous 
stories  of  other  and  heroic  days,  when  English 
civilization  and  American  liberty  successively 
contended  for  victory  upon  the  bosom  and  along 
the  sides  of  this  lake. 


YACHTIXG  FACILITIES.  149 

I  foresee  the  day  when  a  thousand  pleasure 
yachts  shall  whiten  these  blue  waters  with  their 
sails,  and  other  thousands  of  summer  cottages 
shall  stretch  their  line  of  healthy,  happy  life 
along  the  shores  and  speck  with  color  the 
islands  of  this  lake.  Why  should  it  not  be  so? 
Why  should  not  the  seaboard  cities  turn  their 
eyes  this  way  for  summer  homes  and  summer 
pleasure  ?  Here  land  is  cheap.  Here  are  all 
the  conditions  for  health.  Here  is  splendid 
sporting.  Here  are  the  rarest  facilities  for 
yachting.  Here  is  scenery  unsurpassed  in  the 
world.  Here  are  excellent  food  markets  easily 
accessible.  Here  the  telephone  and  telegraph 

can  connect  every  cottager  with  his  city  busi- 

t,  j 

ness  and  friends.  And  here  are  swift  connec 
tions  by  rail  not  only  with  the  seaboard  cities 
of  the  States,  but  with  all  that  is  attractive  in 
Canadian  scenery  and  life,  from  the  Bay  of 
Chaleur  to  Niagara.  Ho  who  thinks  that  Lake 
Champlain  and  its  sightly  shores  are  not 

1.  O  J 

destined  to  be  speedily  possessed  by  lovers  of 
the  beautiful  and  seekers  of  needed  rest  and 
health  thinks  meanly  of  the  average  intelli 
gence  of  the  health-seeking,  pleasure-loving 


150  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

American.  Fifteen  years  ago,  and  the  Adiron 
dack  region  was  almost  unknown.  A  few 
dozens  of  sportsmen  visited  it  each  summer. 
Twenty  houses,  mostly  built  of  logs,  were  all 
that  were  there.  To-day  a  hundred  thousand 
people  visit  the  woods  each  year,  and  great 
hotels  stand  on  the  shores  of  little  lakes,  where 
then  a  man  might  camp  in  solitude.  What  has 
caused  this  wondrous  change  ?  Why  do  the 
people  by  thousands  rush  thitherward  to-day  ? 
Simply  because  the  people  were  told  of  the 
sport,  pleasure,  and  health  they  could  find  in 
that  then  far-off  and  unknown  place.  The 
demand  existed.  It  was  met  with  a  supply  ; 
knowledge  was  furnished  them,  and  the  people 
responded  promptly,  as  they  always  will.  That 
is  all  that  need  be  said  to  cover  the  whole  ground. 
There  are  thousands  all  over  the  country  who 
know  I  will  not  write  one  word  in  favor  of  any 
sport  or  place  in  reference  to  the  benefits  to  be 
derived  from  it  by  them,  if  I  am  not  intelligent 
and  well-informed.  They  know  that  I  do  not 
sell  my  pen  as  a  hireling  to  praise  what  is  not 
praiseworthy.  I  love  the  outdoor  life  and 
world,  the  pure  air  of  water  stretch,  and  the 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  151 

mountain  tops,  and  the  pure  thought  and  life 
that  come  to  those  who  breathe  it,  and  I  would 
that  all  those  who  love  these  things  with  me 
may  enjoy  them  with  me.  Hence,  at  times,  I 
write  to  them  —  known  and  unknown  to  me  by 
name  and  face  —  to  tell  them  what  I  have  found 
and  where  I  have  found  it  —  health,  peace,  and 
the  new  vigor  which  comes  from  restful  days 
and  quiet  nights,  rilled  through  all  their  dewy 
hours  wTith  sweet  sleep  —  "sleep  which  knits 
up  the  ravelled  sleave  of  care,"  and  pleasures 
which  stimulate  the  frame  and  warm  the 
blood  like  ancient  wine.  And  to  all  such  I  say, 
Come  to  Lake  Champlain  and  spend  the  sum 
mer  here.  You  who  love  the  water,  send  up  your 
boats  and  yachts  or  build  them  here,  and  I  will 
warrant  you  such  pleasant  and  spirited  yacht 
ing  as  is  rarely  found.  You  wrho  love  the  tent 
and  social  camp-fire,  verily  is  there  not  room 
here  for  an  army  of  tents,  and  yet  not  one 
shall  see  the  other ;  you  who  need  the  rest  and 
health  found  in  pure,  cool  mountain  air,  come 
to  the  base  of  these  hills,  amid  whose  tops  God 
generates  the  ozone  of  life,  and,  floating  on  the 
level  wrater,  breathe  its  vigor  in. 


152  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

The  extraordinary  facilities  which  Lake 
Champ] am  offers  the  yachtsman  in  his  enjoy 
ment  of  his  favorite  pastime  are  not  unknown 
or  unappreciated  by  many ;  but  to  thousands 
they  are  unknown,  and  hence  this  publishment. 

It  is  beyond  question  the  safest  sailing  and 
cruising  ground  that  the  amateur  yachtsman 
can  find.  Here  he  can  serve  his  apprenticeship 
to  skill  under  the  best  possible  conditions. 
First  and  foremost,  it  is  a  tideless  water.  The 
given  sailing  depth  on  reef  and  shoal,  in  chan 
nel  and  mouth  of  rivers,  is  a  constant  one. 
"Where  the  yachtsman  can  go  in  the  morning 
he  can  go  at  midday  and  in  the  moon-lighted 
evening;  in  calm  or  stormy  weather.  Those 
who,  as  amateurs  and  strangers,  have  sailed  the 
Atlantic  coast  or  the  lower  St.  Lawrence,  with 
its  ebb  and  flood  of  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet, 
know  how  to  appreciate  this  fact  in  its  relation 
to  safety  and  absence  of  anxiety  on  the  part  of 
a  skipper.  Furthermore  Lake  Champlain  is 
long  and  wide  enough  for  cruising  and  racing 
both.  Its  bays  are  deep  and  its  islands  many. 
Squalls  are  infrequent  and  cannot  approach  the 
lake  without  making  plain  revelation  of  their 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  153 

approach.  Tn  case  of  need,  refuge  is  easily  and 
quickly  found  behind  island  or  within  bay.  A 
fool,  it  is  said,  can  capsize  a  boat  even  behind 
a  breakwater  or  within  a  basin,  but  he  who 
allows  any  serious  accident  to  befall  his  yacht 
on  Chainplain  must  be  a  genius  of  idiocy. 
There  has  never  been  an  accident  to  a  yacht 
handled  by  a  yachtsman  on  the  lake  within  my 
knowledge,  and  I  never  expect  there  will  be. 

The  yachting  interest  of  the  lake  finds  its 
natural  centre  at  Burlington.  In  front  of  this 
city  the  lake  is  wide  and  free  of  all  obstruc 
tions.  Here  a  triangular  race  of  thirty  miles 
can  be  sailed  with  every  yacht,  from  start  to 
finish,  under  the  gazer's  eye  —  a  very  rare  con 
dition  in  regattas.  Indeed,  we  know  no  other 
course  in  front  of  a  city  of  which  this  state 
ment  can  be  made.  On  a  pier  at  the  foot  of 
the  principal  street  of  the  city,  within  a  few 
rods  of  the  Central  Vermont  Depot  and  the 
wharf  of  the  Champlain  Transportation  Com 
pany,  the  Lake  Champlain  Yacht  Club  has 
erected  its  large  and  commodious  clubhouse. 
No  other  clubhouse  on  the  continent  gives  to  its 
members  and  their  guests  such  a  magnificent 


154  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

vision  of  natural  loveliness  and  sublimity. 
The  lake  rolls  its  waves  to  its  doors,  and  the 
motion  of  its  water  gives  animation  to  the 
scene.  From  its  wide,  high  balconies  the  eye 
beholds  a  spectacle  of  unrivalled  loveliness  and 
majesty.  Directly  in  front  and  stretching  far 
to  right  and  left  the  lake  itself,  with  glint  of 
sun  by  day  and  gleam  of  stars  by  night,  unrolls 
its  crystal  spaces.  To  the  left,  in  plain  view, 
stands  Mohawk  Hock,  dumb  reminder  of  a  de 
parted  race  and  immemorial  years.  To  the 
right  is  Bluff  Point,  to  which  geologists  go  to 
translate  the  messages  of  eternity  to  time.  In 
the  middle  of  the  lake  the  islands  of  the  Four 
Winds  ride  at  anchor.  The  nighest  point  of 
the  farther  shore  is  that  one  on  which  Cham- 
plain  shot  the  captive  Iroquois  chief  to  save 
him  from  further  torture  by  his  Algonquin  con 
querors.  To  the  northward,  in  clear  view,  Point 
Trembleau  thrusts  its  rocky  promontory  out  into 
the  murmuring  water,  and  with  its  beach  of 
iron  sand  gives  to  the  lake  the  greeting  of  the 
mountains.  While  in  the  west  the  Adirondack 
peaks  —  a  hundred  summits  crowding  upward 
in  confusion -- penetrate  the  clear  atmosphere 


YACIITIXG   FACILITIES.  155 

and  serrate  the  blue  of  the  farther  sky  with  the 
edges  of  their  dark  formation.  To  one  who 
admires  the  beautiful  in  nature  it  is  worth  the 
ride  of  a  thousand  miles  to  enjoy  for  a  single 
day  and  evening  the  freedom  of  the  balconies 
and  the  observation  roof  of  the  clubhouse  of 
the  Lake  Champlain  Yacht  Club  at  Burlington. 
The  club  was  founded  in  1887,  and  for  other 
uses  than  mere  aquatic  sports  demand.  It  was 
felt  by  its  founders  that  Lake  Champlain  would 
soon  attract  national  attention.  The  martial 
splendor  of  its  history  and  the  momentous 
political  significance  of  the  glorious  drama,  the 
various  and  exciting  scenes  of  which  had  all 
been  played  upon  its  waters  and  its  shores, 
would  compel  the  interest  and  presence  of 
thousands  upon  thousands.  The  yachtsman, 
canoeist;  and  angler  would  come  as  a  matter  of 
course  ;  but  these  would  constitute  but  a  frac 
tion  of  the  multitude  that  would  visit  this  most 
lovely  and  historic  section  of  the  United  States 
—  a  section  where  nature  seems  to  have  entered 
into  rivalry  with  tradition  and  history  to  de 
monstrate  which  might  exert  the  strongest 
influence  on  the  intelligent  and  travelling  por- 


156  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

tion   of    mankind.     Ars  well  misrtit  Lexington. 

o  o  / 

Bunker  Hill,  and  Plymouth  Rock  remain  un- 
visited,  as  that  Isle  La  Motte,  Colchester  Point. 
Plattsburg,  Valcour,  Crown  Point,  Ticonder- 
oga,  and  Burlington  Bay  be  much  longer 
neglected  by  the  students  of  American  history 
and  the  tourists  of  the  country.  They  fully  ap 
prehended  also  the  significance  of  its  geograph 
ical  location  —  that  it  lay  at  the  centre,  from 
east  to  west,  of  that  remarkable  parallelogram 
of  country  which  begins  with  Niagara  and  the 
Thousand  Isles  and  ends  at  Bar  Harbor  and 
Mount  Desert,  and  within  which,  beside  these 
famous  localities  and  resorts  of  pleasure,  are 
grouped  also  the  Adirondacks  and  the  Chateau- 
gay  region,  the  Horicon  and  Saratoga  Springs, 
the  Green  Mountains  and  the  upper  Connecti 
cut,  the  world-advertised  White  Hills,  the  lakes 
of  Maine,  and  the  justly  celebrated  fountain  of 
health  at  Poland  Springs ;  and  connected  with 
these  famous  resorts  more  than  five  hundred 
hotels,  to  which  the  visiting  guests  annually 
pay  a  tribute  of  more  than  fifteen  millions  of 
dollars. 

The  gentlemen  who  founded  the  Lake  Cham- 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  157 

plain  Yacht  Club  saw  these  facts,  and  that  the 
lake  on  which  the}7  lived  was  the  natural  and 
magnificent  centre  of  this  marvellous  stretch 
of  country  in  which  Nature,  in  rivalry  with 
herself,  has  crowded  every  variety  of  scenery 
and  every  charm  that  can  attract  the  tourist. 
Into  this  noted  parallelogram  of  space  she  has 
grouped  her  cataracts  and  waterfalls ;  her 
gorges  and  chasms  ;  her  mountains  and  valleys  ; 
her  lakes  and  rivers;  stocked  these  with  fish,  and 
the  forest  spaces  with  game ;  and  over  all,  they 
perceived,  Tradition  had  thrown  the  glamour 
of  her  charm,  and  that  upon  the  vast  and 
gloomy  front  of  prehistoric  times  History  had 
blazoned  the  vivid  record  of  glorious  transac 
tions.  Apprehending  these  things,  they  felt  that 
the  God  who  created  this  continent  and  grouped 
its  marvels  in  such  close  connection  had,  in  this 
eastern  section  of  it,  located  the  Great  National 
Park  of  the  Republic  and  made  Lake  Champlain 
the  natural  and  appropriate  centre  and  central 
charm  of  it. 

The  club,  the  originating  and  establishing 
motive  of  which  sprang  from  such  a  clear  and 
noble  apprehension,  was  not  created  to  serve  a 


158  LAKE    CHAM  PLAIN. 

local  purpose  or  encourage  one  fashion  of  recrea 
tion,  however  manly  and  desirable ;  but  rather 
to  disseminate  needed  and  quickening  informa 
tion  to  the  country,  and  to  serve  the  highest 
purposes  of  patriotism  and  American  social  life. 
Hence  its  membership  was  limited  to  no  class 
or  locality,  nor  to  national  lines ;  for  it  was  felt 
by  the  originators  of  the  club  that  the  beauty 
of  the  lake  was  of  so  high  an  order,  and  its 
historic  associations  so  influential  and  far-reach 
ing,  as  judged  in  the  light  of  our  developing 
civilization,  that  in  the  truest  sense  of  it,  as  of 
no  other  body  of  water  on  the  continent,  it 
belonged  to  the  entire  continent  and  the  whole 
world. 

Its  membership  was  from  the  beginning,  and 
is  still,  cosmopolitan.  It  is  naturally  composed 
of  gentlemen  of  intelligence,  public  spirit  and 
standing.  Many  of  its  members  are  men  of 
national  fame.  Its  annual  dues  are  too  slight 
to  be  burdensome  to  any,  but  ample,  from  the 
largeness  of  its  membership,  for  all  purposes  of 
needed  revenue.  As  regards  yachts  and  yacht 
ing,  it  has  a  fleet  of  nearly  forty  well-built 
boats,  which  is  rapidly  increasing.  Its  sailing 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  159 

section  is  composed  of  catboats,  sharpies, 
Burgess-modelled  sloops,  and  English  cutters ; 
nearly  all  of  them  new  boats  and  of  much  larger 
size  than  is  generally  found  in  amateur  clubs. 
Its  clubhouse  is  not  the  resort  of  yachtsmen 
and  canoeists  alone,  but  even  in  a  greater  degree 
of  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  love  the  sight  of 
rolling  and  rippling  water ;  of  passing  sails  and 
steamers ;  of  green  islands  and  majestic  moun 
tains  ;  the  shady  balcony  and  cool  currents  of 
wind ;  cheerful  companionship  and  restful  quiet. 
Its  rooms  and  wide  verandas  are  opened  and 
maintained  by  the  members  as  a  favorite  noon 
day  and  evening  resort,  a  quiet,  peaceful  loung- 
ing-place  and  restful  refuge  from  office  rush 
and  noisy  hotel  for  themselves  and  their  guests. 
A  more  delightful  one  might  not  be  imagined. 

Hospitality  is  the  characteristic  of  American 
club  life,  and  especially  of  yachting-club  life, 
and  the  officers  and  local  members  of  this  club 
are  not  behind  their  brother  clubmen  in  the 
exercise  of  this  most  ancient  and  honorable  of 
virtues.  Not  only  do  all  visiting  yachtsmen, 
but  all  travellers  and  tourists  who  visit  this  re 
markable  region,  receive  every  possible  courtesy 


160  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

at  their  hands.  The  club  might  almost  be 
called  a  Bureau  of  Information  in  the  interest 
of  visitors,  so  willing  are  its  local  officers  and 
members  to  assist  the  transient  guest  of  the 
city  with  all  needed  knowledge. 

I  publish  in  this  connection  the  list  of  the 
officers  of  the  club,  that  all  who 'may  wish  to 
correspond  with  them  may  know  whom  to 
address.  It  is  their  desire,  as  it  is  of  the  entire 
body  of  the  membership  of  the  club,  that  it 
should  receive  additions  from  every  State  of  the 
Union  and  every  Province  of  Canada ;  and  they 
do,  through  my  words,  make  public  this  desire, 
and  cordially  invite  all  who  intend  to  visit  Lake 
Champlain  or  would  assist  them  in  rendering 
services  to  those  who  do  visit  it,  to  unite  them 
selves  to  the  club,  that  they  and  their  friends 
may  enjoy  its  privileges  and  assist  them  in 
their  efforts  to  serve  the  public  with  courteous 
assistance  and  fitting  hospitality. 

OFFICERS    OF    THE    CLUB. 

Commodore,  W.  Seward  Webb;  vice-commo 
dore,  W.  A.  Crombie ;  president,  J.  Gregory 
Smith  -,  first  vice-president,  Elias  Lyman ;  second 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  .161 

vice-president^  II.  LeGrand  Cannon ;  secretary, 
Joseph  Auld  ;  treasurer ',  Horatio  Ilickok  ;  meas 
urer ',  A.  C.  Tuttle  ;  fleet  captain,  Horatio 
Looinis ;  fleet  surgeon,  A.  P.  Grinnell,  M.D. 
Executive  Committee :  Horatio  Hickok,  W.  II. 
II.  Murray,  A.  C.  Tuttle,  F.  W.  Smith,  D.  W. 
Robinson,  C.  F.  Carter,  N.  F.  Merrill,  Elias 
Lynian,  R.  G.  Severson,  Joseph  Auld,  Alvaro 
Adsit,  J.  A.  Averill,  Jacob  G.  Sanders,  A.  C. 
Whiting,  H.  M.  Phelps,  C.  A.  Murray,  F.  E. 
Smith,  E.  C.  Smith,  S.  W.  Cummings,  J.  G. 
Hindes,  H.  H.  Noble,  Walter  C.  Witherbee,  A. 
G.  Whittemore,  W.  A.  Crombie,  Theodore  S. 
Peck,  H.  J.  Brookes,  H.  LeGrand  Cannon,  F.  J. 
Hawley,  J.  B.  Tresidder,  L.  C.  Grant,  T.  P.  W. 
Rogers,  Samuel  Keyser.  Regatta  Committee : 
L.  C.  Grant,  Chester  Griswold,  A.  C.  Whiting, 
Horace  J.  Brookes,  M.  B.  Adams.  House  Com- 
mittee :  H.  LeGrand  Cannon,  W.  A.  Crombie, 
T.  P.  W.  Rogers.  Membership  Committee: 
Horatio  Hickok.  Elias  Lyman,  A.  C.  Whiting, 
F.  W.  Smith,  W.  H.  H.  [Murray.  Committee  on 
Printing  :  Horatio  Hickok,  Joseph  Auld,  A.  G. 
Whittemore. 


162  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 


SAILING   DIRECTIONS. 


FROM    BURLINGTON    GOING    NORTH. 

Opposite  Burlington  are  no  obstructions  that 
are  not  visible  in  daylight. 

Juniper  Island  (lighthouse).  —  To  the  south 
is  Juniper  Reef  (buoyed) ;  eight  feet  on  reef  at 
low  water ;  buoy  on  northwest  corner ;  can  go 
close  to  it ;  to  the  south  go  one-third  of  a  mile, 
no  nearer  to  buoy. 

Shellmrn  Bay.  —  Two  miles  of  safe  sailing ; 
free  of  reefs.  North  of  the  mouth  of  this  bay, 
near  the  centre  of  the  entrance,  a  half-mile  to 
the  north,  is  Proctor's  Reef  ;  buoy  on  northwest 
corner.  Can  sail  near  the  buoy,  but  give  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  margin  if  you  go  to  the  south 
of  it. 

Juniper  Island  Eeef.  —  Running  out  toward 
Mohawk  Rock  a  third  of  a  mile ;  advise  not 
coasting  too  near  the  island  unless  with  pilot. 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  163 

Four  Brothers. — Southwest  from  Burlington, 
four  miles  distance.  Give  these  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  berth  to  the  south,  east,  and  west ;  to  the 
north  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  for  in  that 
direction  there  are  three  reefs,  called  "  Three 
Bunches"  (not  buoyed).  These  reefs  have  at 
least  six  feet  of  water  on  them.  Yachts  can 
land  safely  on  the  Brothers  in  quiet  weather. 
These  islands  are  pleasant  ones  to  visit,  and 
from  them  a  superb  view  of  the  lake  can  be 
had  in  all  directions. 

West  by  north,  almost  directly  opposite 
Burlington,  is  Willsborough  Point,  and  west  of 
the  point  is  the  entrance  to  Willsborough  Bay. 
This  bay  is  about  five  miles  in  depth.  At  the 
head  stands  the  village  of  Willsborough.  The 
entrance  is  free  from  all  obstructions  ;  large 
yachts  can  enter  and  sail  the  bay  to  its  head 
safely.  This  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  very 
much  land-locked  and  secluded,  so  that  it  in 
fact  seems  like  a  separate  lake. 

Port  Douglas  is  north  of  Willsborough  Bay 
some  three  and  a  half  miles,  and  lias  a  dock  at 
which  yachts  could  be  moored  in  safety. 

Schuylers  Island  (Isle  Chapon,  by  the  French) 


164  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

is  to  the  north  east,  and  water  is  of  good  depth 
between  it  and  the  mainland. 

Schuylers  Reef  is  to  the  southeast  of  the 
island,  some  mile  and  a  quarter.  It  is  buoyed 
on  the  east  side.  In  coasting  give  a  third  of  a 
mile  to  this  reef.  About  six  feet  of  water  is 
on  it,  so  that  to  small  yachts  no  danger  may  be 
apprehended  in  good  weather  sailing  nearer. 

Ferris  Rock  is  northeast  of  Schuyler's  Island 
about  one  and  a  half  miles.  It  is  buoyed ; 
buoy  is  at  the  centre.  A  yacht  can  sail  within 
a  hundred  feet  of  it  safely. 

Point  TremUeau  is  a  bold,  rocky  projection 
northwest  of  Schuyler's  Island,  on  mainland, 
and  has  good  depth  of  water  in  front  of  it. 

Port  Kent,  one  mile  to  the  north,  has  a  good 
mooring  basin  at  the  dock.  The  bay  between 
the  dock  and  Point  Trembleau  is  not  good 
anchoring-ground  ;  plenty  of  water,  but  hard 
bottom.  Of  course,  with  a- north  west  or  south 
wind,  yachts  would  find  excellent  refuge  there, 
but  should  the  wind  shift  to  the  east  or  north 
east  or  southeast,  anchors  would  not  hold,  and 
to  escape  going  ashore  a  yacht  would  have  to 
get  under  way.  At  Port  Douglas,  or,  better 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  165 

yet,  in  Willsborough  Bay,  in  such  an  event,  a 
yacht  could  find  the  best  of  refuge ;  or,  going 
behind  Valcour  Island,  in  case  the  wind  was 
from  the  east  or  southeast,  a  yacht  would  find 
the  safest  of  accommodation. 

North  of  Port  Kent,  some  two  miles,  is  a 
bank  of  sand  (buoyed)  ;  small  yachts  can  go 
inside  of  it,  but  it  is  safer  to  stand  outside  of  it. 

An  Sable  Point  is  three  miles  and  more  to 
the  north  of  Port  Kent.  Southeast  of  the 
point,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore,  is  a 
buoy  ;  can  sail  near  it  safely,  but  if  the  wind  is 
strong  from  north  or  east  better  stand  out  a 
little. 

Sailing  north  from  Au  Sable  Point,  lay  your 
course  centrally  between  Valcour  Island  and 
mainland  until  you  come  to  the  northwest 
point  of  the  island,  when  you  will  find —»•  two- 
thirds  the  distance  from  the  island  to  main 
shore  —  a  reef  (buoyed),  with  five  feet  of  water 
on  it.  Water  is  of  good  depth  on  either  side. 

Bluff  Point  is  a  projection  of  mainland 
immediately  to  the  north,  and  is  now  made  a 
commanding  object  by  the  magnificent  hotel 
recently  built  upon  it. 


166  LAKE   CHAMPLAIX. 

Crab  Island.  —  Two  miles  from  north  end 
of  Valcour  Island,  due  north,  is  Crab  Island. 
Give  this  island  a  berth  of  nearly  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  all  round  it. 

Coining  back  to  Valcour  Island,  we  would 
say.  — 

Garden  Island  is  to  the  south  of  Valcour  a 
half  a  mile,  and  a  quarter  of  a  mile  east  of 
Garden  Island  is  Garden  Island  Ledu'e.  This 

<-_. 

has  eight  feet  of  water  :  safe  sailing  all  round 
both  island  and  ledge. 

On  the  east  side  of  Valcour  Island,  about  a 
third  of  the  distance  from  the  southern  end.  is 
Smuggler's  Cove.  This  is  a  small  recess  of 
water  with  a  narrow  entrance.  There  is  from 
five  to  six  feet  of  water  in  this  cove.  It  is  a 
pretty,  secluded  spot  to  lunch  or  camp  in.  and 
a  small  yacht  would  find  it  a  very  safe  and 
pleasant  moor  ing-ground.  There  is  a  little 
spring  of  water  here,  very  agreeable,  and  handy 
for  picknickers. 

Sloop-  Core  is  located  half-way  of  the  island 
of  Valcour.  on  the  east  side.  It  has  only  two  or 
three  feet  of  water  in  it.  and  hence  is  not  safe 
to  enter  unless  in  case  of  small,  light-draft 
boats  and  still  weather. 


YACHTING    FACILITIES.  167 

North  of  Sloop  Cove,  about  a  mile  distant,  i.s 
a  rock  separated  by  a  short  distance  from  main 
shore.  We  call  attention  to  this  rock  because 
to  the  north  of  it.  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  is 
a  reef  (not  buoyed).  On  it  is  five  and  a  half 
feet  of  water.  This  reef  is  small  in  extent. 
With  the  exception  of  this  unbi.ioyed  reef,  the 
entire  east  side  of  Valcour  Island  can  be  coasted 
by  yachts  of  good  size  safely. 

From  Valcour  Island  to  Plattsburg  is 
unobstructed  sailing  (excepting  Crab  Island, 
previously  mentioned j.  The  entrance  to  Platts 
burg  Harbor,  viz..  inside  the  breakwater,  is 
plain  sailing,  and  the  yachtsman  needs  no 
directions  from  me. 

Cariiberland  Buy.  bn1^  between  Plattsburg 
and  Cumberland  Head,  is  not  adapted  for 
yachts  on  the  western  half  of  it.  The  eastern 
half  gives  good  water.  Nevertheless,  in  case  of 
a  stiff  southerly  wind  I  would  not  advise  sailing 
in  this  bay.  Better  stand  out  to  the  south  of 
Cumberland  Head,  where  the  courses  are  free 
of  all  obstruction. 

It  is  well  for  skippers  of  small  yachts  to 
bear  in  mind  that  in  case  of  strong  southerly 


168  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

winds  the  stretch  south  of  Cumberland  Head 
for  ten  miles  is  the  roughest  on  the  lake.  Such 
a  wind  blows  with  unobstructed  sweep  for 
nearly  thirty  miles  down  the  lake.  Salt-water 
yachtsmen  are  inclined  to  underrate  the  capa 
city  of  inland  water  to  test  the  seagoing  ability 
of  a  craft  or  the  skill  of  a  skipper,  but  we  who 
sail  Champlain — and  some  of  us  were  born  on 
the  coast  and  know  what  "rough  water"  is  — 
can  testify  that  a  skipper  who  beats  his  boat  up 
the  lake  from  Plattsburg  to  Burlington  with 
even  half  a  gale  blowing  from  the  south  will 
have  a  wet  boat  and  wet  sails  too  before  he  has 
passed  Colchester  Reef.  We,  therefore,  regard 
ing  safety  as  the  first  thing  to  consider  in  pleas 
ure  yachts,  advise  all  small  yachts  to  be  careful 
of  this  stretch  of  water  in  strong  southerly 
winds. 

Gravelly  Point  is  north  of  Cumberland  Head 
some  two  miles.  It  is  easily  recognized  by  the 
gravelly  shale  that  composes  the  shore.  We 
call  attention  to  it  because  from  all  southerly 
and  western  and  northwest  wind,  it  makes  a 
very  fine  anchorage  ground.  The  bottom  is  a 
good  holding  one,  and  yachts  can  lie  close  in 


YACHTING    FACILITIES.  169 

within  two  hundred  feet  of  the  beach  in  safety. 
But  in  case  the  wind  shifts  to  the  east  or  north 
or  northeast,  the  skipper  must  move  out.  In 
this  case  he  finds  a  safe  and  easy  run  round 
Cumberland  Head  to  Plattsburg. 

From  Gravelly  Point  coasting  north  six  miles 
brings  you  to  the  L'tfjltt  Tower  (Point  an  Roche), 
and  to  it  is  clean  sailing  with  good  water.  Just 
opposite  the  Light  (half  a  mile)  is  Point  au 
Roche  Reef,  in  which  is  seven  feet  of  water  with 
good  depth  on  either  side. 

Ixle  La  ^[otte  is  north  of  Point  au  Roche 
Light  some  two  miles.  Take  the  west  side  and 
you  will  find  good  water  without  obstruction 
until  you  come  to  the  north  end  of  the  island, 
where  you  mast  bear  in  mind 

Point  au  Fer.  --This  is  one  mile  to  the  north 
of  the  Light  Tower,  on  the  north  end  of  the 
island.  It  is  nearly  three-fourths  of  a  mile 
long,  and  should  be  given  a  good  margin.  But 
there  is  nearly  a  mile  width  of  good  sailing 
water  between  it  and  the  island,  so  no  skipper 
needs  feel  troubled. 

After  passing  this  reef,  the  course  lies  open 
to  you  to  Rouse  s  Point.  You  can  sail  half  a 


170  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

mile  or  so  from  the  shore  and  feel  that  you  have 
goodly  space  of  good  water  on  either  hand.  At 
Rouse's  Point  is  good  anchorage  and  the  north 
ernmost  one  of  the  lake. 

We  will  now  return  to  Burlington. 

Shelburn  Bay  is  about  three  miles  from  the 
clubhouse,  and  is  about  two  miles  deep.  It  is 
free  of  shoals  and  reefs  and  is  good  sailing 
ground.  Good-sized  yachts  can  be  sailed  to 
within  one-fourth  of  a  mile  of  its  end  without 
danger.  If  the  wind  is  from  the  northwest  and 
strong,  the  water  in  the  bay  is  quite  rough,  and 
in  beating  back  a  small  sailboat  should  be  care 
fully  handled. 

Saxtoris  Reef  is  about  one  and  a  half  miles 
south  of  Shelburn  Point,  and  half  a  mile  from 
shore.  It  is  buoyed  on  west  side.  There  is 
eight  feet  of  water  on  the  one  part  of  it  and 
eleven  feet  on  the  other.  It  is  safe  to  go  within 
forty  rods  on  either  side  of  it. 

Quaker  Smith's  Reef  is  opposite  the  point  of 
that  name  and  some  one  and  a  half  miles  from 
Saxton's  Reef,  bearing  south  by  west  from  it. 
It  is  about  three-fourths  of  a  mile  from  the 
shore,  and  has  seven  feet  of  water  on  it.  It  is 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  171 

buoyed  and  is  of  small  extent.  It  is  safe  to  go 
nigh  to  it. 

Opposite  Quaker  Smith's  Reef  is  the  Bluff, 
and  from  said  bluff  there  stretches  out  to 
the  west  a  shoal  for  nearly  one-fourth  of  a 
mile.  The  point  of  the  shoal  has  only  five  and  a 
half  feet  in  it,  and  should  therefore  be  borne  in 
mind  by  cruising  parties,  especially  if  they  are 
making  for 

Quaker  Smith's  Bay.  -  -  This  bay  is  back  of 
the  point  of  the  same  name,  and  makes  excel 
lent  anchorage  ground  for  yachts  of  any  size, 
as  it  has  depth  of  water  from  ten  to  twenty 
feet  and  good  bottom.  It  is  also  perfectly  pro 
tected  from  all  winds,  and  has  a  wride,  easy 
entrance.  In  entering  this  bay  bear  in  mind 
that  to  the  south  and  east  some  one-fourth  of  a 
mile  is  a  reef  with  only  some  five  and  six  feet 
of  water  on  it. 

This  bay  is  the  harbor  where  W.  S.  Webb, 
Commodore  of  the  Champlain  Yacht  Club,  moors 
his  several  yachts.  And  during  the  summer 
the  reef  alluded  to  is  buoyed  by  his  care ;  but 
the  government  lias  no  buoy  on  it. 

From  Quaker  Smith's  Point  to  /S7oop  Island, 


172  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

opposite  Essex,  there  are  no  obstructions  of  any 
sort. 

About  five  miles  south  of  Sloop  Island  some 
mile  and  more  you  come  to  Cedar  Reach,  a 
favorite  resort  of  campers  and  picnickers. 

Pickctt  Island,  Cedar  Island,  and  Gardiner 
Island,  lie  south  of  Cedar  Beach,  between  it  and 
Thompson's  Point.  East  of  Gardiner  Island, 
which  is  the  largest  of  the  three,  is  good 
anchorage  for  all  winds,  and  there  is  good  depth 
of  water  to  get  in  and  out  of  this  fine  harbor, 
so  that  no  one  need  fear  to  push  for  it  if  in  any 
stress. 

Thompsons  Point  is  opposite  Cloven  Rock, 
and  is  a  resort  of  many  campers  and  cottagers. 
The  waters  around  it  are  well  stocked  with  fish, 
and  anglers  find  much  excellent  sport  here 
abouts.  Perhaps  there  is  no  place  on  the  lake 
which  is  more  liked  by  those  who  are  familiar 
with  the  beauty  and  sporting  facilities  of  this 
locality  than  Thompson's  Point  and  its  adjoin 
ing  waters. 

Otter  Creek  is  some  three  miles  south  of 
Thompson's  Point.  This  creek  or  river,  for  in 
all  rights  it  is  a  river,  being  the  longest  one  in 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  173 

Vermont,  and  navigable  to  ships  of  good  size  as 
far  up  as  the  Falls  at  Vergennes,  eight  miles, 
is  noted  in  history.  Here  Arnold,  when  pressed 
by  the  pursuing  British  fleet,  ran  his  flagship 
ashore  and  set  her  on  fire,  escaping  with  his  crew 
overland  to  Crown  Point.  Fort  Cassin  stands 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river  and  did  good  service 
in  its  day.  It  was  in  this  river  that  Mac- 
el  enough  built  and  fitted  out  his  fleet  with 
which  he  won  his  noted  victory  of  Plattsburg. 
But  this  river  is  not  an  easy  one  for  a  stranger 
to  enter  from  the  lake,  and  I  would  not  advise  a 
yachtsman  to  attempt  it  without  a  local  pilot  or 
in  clear  and  quiet  weather,  when  he  might 
••feel"  his  way  safely  in. 

South  of  this  point  I  need  give  no  direction, 
as  the  lake  is  open  and  clear  of  all  dangerous 
places  to  Ticonderoga.  It  is.  in  fact,  a  contin 
uous  harbor,  and  all  a  skipper  has  to  do  is  "  not 
to  sail  into  the  fences,"  as  the  local  saying  is. 


We  will  now  begin  to  cruise  northward. 
Split    Rock,    once    called,    far    more    eupho 
niously,  Cloven  Rock,  is  a  curiosity,  and  savants 


174  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

differ  as  to  its  origin.  Historically  it  has  been 
mistaken  by  many  writers  for  Mohawk  Rock, 
which  stands  in  Burlington  Bay.  .  Historically 
there  is  no  significance  to  Cloven  Rock  what 
ever,  and  it  is  interesting  only  as  a  curious 
freak  of  nature. 

Whaloris  Bay  is  immediately  north  of  it,  and 
is  good  for  all  winds  save  northerly  ones. 
From  these  Gardiner  Island,  right  opposite,  is 
excellent  moor  ing-ground. 

Cruising  northward,  you  come  to  Essex,  where 
ample  accommodation  for  yachts  and  yachts 
men  will  be  found. 

Bouquet  River  lies  north  of  Essex  some 
three  miles.  Here  a  sandbar  stretches  some 
one-half  -mile  from  its  mouth.  A  yacht  draw 
ing  six  feet  should  give  a  good  half-mile 
from  the  shore  to  be  safe.  Indeed,  in  .cruising, 
no  skipper  should  run  in  nearer  than  this  dis 
tance  between  Cloven  Rock  and  Willsborough 
Point,  unless  slowly  feeling  his  way  in  on  some 
quiet  day.  But,  with  this  caution,  a  yacht  has 
a  free  run  from  Cloven  Rock  until  it  comes  to 
the  Four  Brothers,  opposite  Burlington,  which 
we  have  already  described. 


YACHTING    FACILITIES.  175 

SAILING    NORTH    FROM    BURLINGTON    ON    THE 
EAST    SIDE    OF    THE    LAKE. 

Apple-Tree  Shoals  are  two  and  one-fourth 
miles  from  the  clubhouse,  northwest,  and  are 
southeast  from  Apple-Tree  Point,  about  three- 
fourths  of  a  mile.  Buov  on  northwest  corner. 

\j 

They  stretch  southeast  from  the  buoy  some 
forty  rods.  Depth  of  water  five  and  a  half  feet. 

Apple-Tree  Point  should  be  allowed  one-eighth 
of  a  mile. 

Wuwoski  Ulcer  enters  the  lake  some,  two 
miles  north  of  Apple-Tree  Point.  No  yacht 
without  pilot  should  seek  to  enter,  I  mean  even 
small  yachts,  because  of  a  wide  deposit  of  sand 
that  has  been  delivered  into  the  lake  from  the 
river,  and  makes  it  inaccessible.  In  fact,  this 
deposit  of  sand  extends  from  Apple-Tree  Point 
clean  round  to  Colchester  Point,  and  northward 
from  Colchester  Point  two  and  a  half  miles 
farther.  In  cruising,  no  yacht  should  be  carried 
within  a  line  drawn  from  Apple-Tree  Point  to 
Colchester  Point.  It  should  be  also  borne  in 
mind,  in  case  of  a  southerly  wind,  that  this  is  a 
bad  lee  shore  and  should  be  avoided. 


176  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

Good  fishing  is  found  off  the  mouth  of  and 
in  Winooski  River.  This  river  is  a  delightful 
one  to  boat  on  up  to  the  rapids  near  Winooski 
village.  There  is  no  good  reason  to  doubt  that 
Champlain  in  his  first  exploration  of  the  lake 
entered  the  Winooski  and  visited  the  falls  •  and 
it  was  doubtless  from  Lone  Rock  Point  or  Apple- 
Tree  Point  that  his  red  associates  pointed  out' to 
him  the  terrible  Mohawk  Rock,  beyond  which 
they  must  not  go,  unless  with  the  utmost  cau 
tion  and  prepared  for  attack. 

In  cruising  from  Burlington  northward  a 
yacht  should,  from  Apple-Tree  Point,  lay  its 
course  to  the  west  of  Colchester  Shoals  until  it 
commands  a  view  of  Cumberland  Head.  These 
shoals  are  buoyed  on  the  northern  point  of  them 
and  extend  from  the  buoy  about  one-half  mile 
to  the  south  and  east  of  it.  At  low 1  water 
these  shoals  are  visible,  but  at  high  water  they 
are  covered. 

1  We  use  the  terms  high  and  low  water  not  in  reference  to  any 
tide,  of  course,  but  to  the  fact  that  in  the  spring  of  the  year  the 
water  in  the  lake  is  higher  by  some  six  or  seven  feet  than  it  is  later 
in  the  season.  The  depth  of  water  as  marked  by  us  in  these  notes 
always  refers  to  the  depth  when  the  water  of  the  lake  is  at  its  low 
est  point. 


YACIITIXG  FACILITIES.  177 

Colchester  Reef  is  northeast  of  the  Shoals 
about  three-fourths  of  a  mile.  It  is  a  columnar 
rock  of  imposing  height,  and  on  its  crest  is  a 
lighthouse.  In  pleasant  or  calm  weather  the 
rock  can  he  approached  safely  by  small  boats. 
By  an  iron  ladder  visitors  can  reach  the  keeper's 
lodge,  and  from  it  a  lovely  view  of  the  lake  is 
obtainable. 

Hoy- Back  Reef  is  half  a  mile  to  the  north 
east  of  the  Light  Station.  It  is  buoyed.  The 
buoy  is  on  the  northwest  corner.  The  reef  is 
not  of  large  extent,  and  nearly  if  not  quite  visi 
ble  at  low  water. 

Hoy-Back  Island  is  north  of  this  reef  one- 
fourth  of  a  mile,  and  east  of  this,  stretching  to 
the  north  two  and  a  fourth  miles,  is  the  projec 
tion  of  Sandy  Shoals,  before  alluded  to. 

We  advise  that  in  cruising  all  yachts  keep  to 
the  west  of  Colchester  Reef,  unless  under  pilot 
age.  Although  there  is  a  good  passage  between 
these  several  obstructions  above  mentioned  to 
one  who  knows  the  waters,  nevertheless,  as 
there  is  little  distance  saved,  it  is  better  to 
stand  out  to  the  west  of  them  all. 

Jones    Rock    is   north   of    Colchester   Light 


ITS  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

some   two  miles,  due   north.     It  is  not   buoyed, 
and  has  six  feet  of  water  on  it. 

Stave  Island  Lcdfje  is  one-half  a  mile  north 
of  this  with  five  feet  of  water  on  it.  No  huoy. 

Stave  Island  is  one-half  mile  north  of  this. 

Carlton  Prize  is  three-fourths  of  a  mile  north. 
Due  north  of  Stave  Island  and  northwest  of 
this,  one-fourth  of  a  mile,  is  Providence  Island. 

Between  Stave  Island  and  Providence  Island 
is  good  depth  of  water,  and  no  obstructions  ex 
cept  Carlton's  Prize  (visible). 

East  of  Providence  Island  and  near  to  it  is 
good  anchorage  against  all  winds. 

Mallet's  Bay  is  a  lovely  bit  of  water,  and  its 
shores  are  much  frequented  and  admired.  But 
off  the  entrance  are  the  several  reefs  and 
shoals  above  mentioned,  making  it  difficult  of 
access  to  a  stranger.  We  advise  yachtsmen 
who  desire  to  visit  this  beautiful  section  of  the 
lake  to  take  a  pilot  at  Burlington  for  the  cruise. 
The  officers  and  local  members  of  the  Lake 
Champlain  Yacht  Club  are  always  glad  to  assist 
visiting  yachtsmen  in  every  way,  and  good  local 
pilots  will  be  commended  to  them  on  applica 
tion. 


YACIITIXG  FACILITIES.  179 

Providence  Island  is  not  only  a  good  anchor 
age  ground  if  caught  in  a  squall  or  storm,  but 
is  provided  with  a  hotel,  and  visitors  will  find 
not  only  accommodation  as  regular  guests,  but 
also  supplies  such  as  are  needed  on  a  cruise  or  in 
camp. 

The  outlet  from  the  moorings  at  Providence 
Island  going  northward  is  a  good  one  although 
not  wide,  and  through  it  a  yacht  can  pass  to  the 
north  into  wide  waters  free  of  all  obstructions 
until  it  comes  to 

Sister  Island  Reef,  one-fourth  of  a  mile 
southeast  of  the  South  Sister  Island.  This  reef 
is  buoyed  at  the  west  end,  is  not  large,  and  has 
good  water  on  all  sides. 

South  Sister  Island  is  not  to  be  approached 
either  on  the  north  or  south  of  it  very  closely; 
and  the  same  can  be  said  of 

North  Sister  Island,  southeast  of  which  are 
two  bundles  of  rock  (not  buoyed),  so  that,  in 
fact,  a  skipper  should  not  sail  either  near  to  or 
between  these  islands  unless  perfectly  familiar 
with  the  ground.  If  he  is  cruising  to  the  north 
of  the  Gut;  he  should  keep  to  the  west  of  these 
islands,  where  he  will  find  open  water  to  Isle  La 


180  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

Motte,  with  the  exception  of  Point  an  Roche 
Reef,  previously  mentioned.  But  if  he  is  bound 
for  St.  Albans  Bay,  or  Maquam  Bay,  or  wishes  to 
cruise  down  the  east  side  of  North  Hero  and 
must  pass  through  the  Gut,  he  should  sail  a 
course  intermediate  between  Sister  Islands  and 
the  shore  of  South  Hero,  which  will  bring  him 
safely  to  the  entrance  of  the  Gut  off  Long  Point. 
From  this  point  I  decline  to  give  farther 
direction,  not  wishing  to  take  the  responsibility. 
The  passage  of  the  Gut  from  Long  Point  to 
Knight's  Point  is  a  blind  and  crooked  one  and 
not  to  be  attempted  by  a  skipper  unless  familiar 
with  the  ground.  In  case  of  fair  weather,  light 
wind,  and  a  small  yacht,  no  doubt  the  passage 
might  be  threaded  safely ;  but  in  case  of  a  larger 
yacht  or  strong  breeze  or  of  a  squall  the  pass 
age,  under  any  circumstances,  is  not  an  easy  one 
to  make,  and  unless  under  good  pilotage  should 
never  be  attempted.  For  this  northern  cruise, 
which  in  many  respects  is  by  far  the  most  inter 
esting  one  that  the  lake  presents,  all  visiting 
yachtsmen  would  do  well  to  put  themselves  in 
communication  with  the  officers  of  the  Cham- 
plain  Yacht  Club  at  Burlington,  and  through 


YACHTING   FACILITIES.  181 

them  obtain  a  competent  pilot.  This  is  the  wise 
and  safe  course  to  pursue,  and  we  earnestly  com 
mend  it  to  all  who  sail  Lake  Champlain. 

TJte  Middle  Reef —  sailors  know  it  as  Bull 
Reef  —  is  north  of  Sister  Islands  half  a  mile,  and 
consists  of  two  parts,  South  and  North  Bunch. 
There  is  good  (narrow)  water  between  them  as 
there  is  good  water  between  them  and  the  North 
Hero  shore,  but  the  passage  is  narrow,  and  be 
tween  the  North  Eeef  and  North  Hero  shore  not 
over  one-fourth  of  a  mile.  In  cruising  north 
the  course  should  be  laid  to  the  west  of  these 
islands  and  reefs.  By  doing  this  the  run  is 
made  without  obstructions  from  Providence 
Island  to  the  south  end  of  Isle  La  Motte,  off  the 
south  end  of  which  is 

HlWs  Island,  between  which  and  the  shore 
is  a  small  reef  with  only  three  feet  of  water, 
nearly  midway  between  the  island  and  Isle  La 
Motte. 

To  the  north  of  east,  one-fourth  of  a  mile 
from  it,  is  a  small  reef  with  seven  and  a  half  feet 
on  it,  and  to  the  southeast  of  Hill's  Island  half 
a  mile  distant  is  a  reef  (buoyed)  with  five  feet 
on  it. 


LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

Toivris  Reef  is  about  three-fourths  of  a  mile 
from  Hill's  Island,  bearing  nearly  southeast  (not 
buoyed  by  government,  a  private  buoy  may  be 
on  it  in  summer).  It  is  some  one-fourth  of  a 
mile  from  the  shore  of  North  Hero  and  about 
three-fourths  of  a  mile  southwest  of  Pelot's  Point. 

Horse-Shoe  Shoal  is  equidistant  between  Isle 
La  Motte  and  the  entrance  to  Missisquoi  Bay. 
It  is  a  long,  narrow  shoal,  stretching  nearly 
north  and  south,  about  a  mile  long.  It  is  not 
buoyed  nor  is  it  visible  unless  in  exceptional  cir 
cumstances  and  to  good  eyes.  But  by  remem 
bering  that  it  lies  nearly  equidistant  between  the 
two  shores,  and  that  good  water  is  on  either  side 
of  it,  it  is  not  difficult  to  pass. 

To  the  north  of  this  is  open  water  until  you 
come  to 

Reynolds  Point,  where  is  the  swinging  bridge 
which  is  opened  for  the  passage  of  crafts.  From 
this  point  lay  your  course  due  north,  bearing 
perhaps  a  trifle  to  the  west  for  the  dock  at 
Kouse's  Point,  to  which  point  we  conducted  you 
safely  in  our  cruise  down  the  western  shore  of 
the  lake ;  and  where,  with  flag  honors,  we  leave 
you. 


YACHTIXG   FACILITIES.  183 

CRUISING    EAST    OF    XORTH    HERO. 

Pelot's    Point  is  the  entrance  to    Missisquoi 

Bay  from  the  western  side  of  North  Hero,  and 

» 

is  opposite  the  southern  portion  of  Isle  La 
Motte.  The  entrance  to  the  Albnrgh  Passage  to 
the  Bag,  as  it  is  called,  is  between  Pelot's  Point 
and  Albnrgh  Point  opposite,  to  the  north,  and  is 
not  difficult.  There  is  a  shoal  (buoy  on  the 
south  end)  nearly  equidistant  between  the  two 
points,  on  which  is  seven  feet  of  water.  If  the 
yacht  draws  more  water  than  this,  or  over  five 
feet  the  course  should  be  laid  between  the  buoy 
and  Pelot's  Point  to  the  south  of  it,  a  passage  of 
good  water  about  one-fourth  of  a  mile. in  width. 

Pelot's  Bay  lies  within  the  mouth  of  the  pass 
age  to  the  south,  and  is  the  mooring-ground  of 
Mr.  Saunders  of  Albany,  N.  Y.,  who  has  a 
line  summer  camp  on  Pelot's  Point,  on  the  west 
side  of  the  bay.  In  this  bay  is  excellent  mooring- 
ground.  protected  from  all  winds. 

Alburcj  Passage  is  the  narrow  stretch  of 
water  lying  between  Alburg  Tongue  and  North 
Hero,  leading  into  Missisquoi  Bay,  and  is  free  of 
obstructions  until  you  come  to  the  railroad 


184  LAKE   CHAMPLAIX. 

bridge,  where  there  is  a  draw.  North  of  the 
draw  a  mile  or  more  is  the 

Alburgh  Hotel,  or  Al burgh  Springs  Hotel, 
which  is  so  well  and  favorably  known  that  I 
need  not  do  more  than  thus  mention  it. 

From  this  hotel  the  course  bears  north  by.  east 
until  you  enter  the  main  body  of  Missisquoi  Bay, 
when  the  course  curves  to  the  east  and  south 
until  you  come  to  the  famous 

Hifjli-Gate  S^rhujs  Hotel,  located  at  the  south 
ern  extremity  of  the  bay,  and  whence  you  will 
naturally  begin  your  return  cruise,  which  can  be 
by  the  same  course  you  entered  or  through 
Maquam  Bay  and  the  large  body  of  water  east 
of  North  Hero. 

There  is  no  question  but  that  the  wide  and 
long  stretch  of  water  east  of  the  two  Heroes  is 
one  of  the  most  lovely  and  picturesque  on  Lake 
Champlain.  It  also  abounds  with  fish,  and  by 
many  is  regarded  as  the  best  black-bass  ground 
in  the  lake.  It  is  beautifully  studded  with 
islands,  and  bounded  with  lovely  shores,  and 
should  be  visited  by  all  yachtsmen  and  tourists. 
But  we  do  not  feel  like  attempting  a  verbal 
pilotage  of  this  expanse  of  water,  for  fear  that, 


YACHTING    FACILITIES.  185 

trusting  to  it  or  encouraged  to  go  beyond  the 
courses  marked  out  by  us,  some  misadventure 
should  happen.  We  earnestly  recommend  all  to 
visit  this  delightful  section  of  the  lake,  and  at 
the  same  time  as  earnestly  advise  local  pilotage 
until  the  visiting  yachtsmen  learn  the  water  for 
themselves.  As  we  have  before  said,  the  officers 
of  the  Lake  Champlain  Yacht  Club  at  Bur 
lington  will  gladly  supply  all  needed  information 
or  assistance  to  all  visitors  seeking  it. 


PART   IV. 

HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES  AND  FACTS 
CONNECTED  WITH  THE  SHORES  OF  LAKE 
CHAMPLAIN. 


A  QUARTER  of  a  century  lias  passed  since  my 
studentship  of  Lake  Champlain  and  its  shores 
began,  and  the  farther  my  investigations  were 
pushed  the  more  was  I  astonished  at  the  wealth 
of  interesting  material  which  lay  scattered  about 
on  all  sides,  waiting  to  be  collected  and  properly 
arranged  for  popular  perusal.  The  period  of 
time  to  be  investigated  in  the  interest  of  his 
torical  knowledge  covers  nearly  three  centuries, 
and  during  all  these  three  hundred  years  there 
is  not  one  of  the  multitude  of  events  which 
have  happened  on  this  lake  which  has  not  been 
closely  connected  with,  and  had  a  more  or  less 
powerful  influence  upon,  the  course  and  develop 
ment  of  American  history.  The  destiny  of 
Canada  and  the  United  States  alike  was  decided 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  187 

by  what  occurred  on  its  waters  and  shores,  and 
yet  no  adequate  examination  into  or  presenta 
tion  of  these  doings  has  ever  been  made  by  an 
American  writer.  The  absence  of  such  a  state 
ment  as  the  subject  demands  seems  to  me  to  be 
a  matter  of  such  poignant  regret  as  may  not 
])e  felt  or  gauged  by  one  unless  he  has  given 
some  attention  to  it  and  is  measurably  well 
informed  in  respect  to  the  long  and  persistent 
struggle  in  which  France  and  England  engaged 
for  the  possession  of  the  continent,  and  which, 
for  the  most  part,  was  fought  out  on  this  lake. 

It  was  my  intention,  in  the  closing  section  of 
this  little  volume,  to  have  drawn  at  least  a 
silhouette  portrait  of  this  momentous  contest, 
that  my  readers  might  have  a  partial  knowledge 
of  what  it  meant  to  them  :  of  its  connection 
with  American  liberty  and  civilization,  and  how 
it  made  Lexington,  Bunker  Hill,  Yorktown, 
free  schools  and  free  churches,  possible.  But 
my  publisher  cannot  accommodate  me  with  the 
space  which  the  briefest  possible  presentation  of 
the  subject  would  require,  and  hence  I  must 
forego  the  attempt.  It  only  remains  for  me  to 
fill  the  few  pages  at  my  command  with  such 


188  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

selections  from  a  mass  of  notes  and  data  I  have 
made  and  collected  as  seem  most  likely,  in  a 
detached  and  disconnected  form,  to  interest  my 
readers.  I  imagine  that  to  some  —  not  the  least 
discerning  —  these  abbreviated  notes,  jottings, 
and  memoranda  of  events,  persons,  and  things 
will  make  the  most  interesting  and  valuable 
pages  of  this  little  book. 

ARNOLD  NOT   AT  TICONDEROGA  WHEN   CAPTURED 
BY    ETHAN    ALLEN. 

It  is  in  the  interest  of  the  facts  of  history 
that  I  record  my  conviction  that  Arnold  was 
not  with  Allen  and  his  party  at  the  capture 
of  Ticonderoga,  and  did  not  arrive  there  until 
several  days  after  its  capture.  I  am  well  aware 
that  Ira  Allen,  in  his  history  of  Vermont,  and 
Dr.  Williams,  state  that  Arnold,  with  a  commis 
sion  from  Massachusetts  as  Colonel,  arrived  at 
Castleton  before  Allen  left  there,  and  claimed  of 
Allen  the  right  to  supplant  him  in  the  com 
mand  of  the  expedition,  and  that  they  state, 
moreover,  that  he  renewed  the  demand  on  the 
morning  of  the  10th  of  May,  when  about  to 
attempt  to  enter  the  fortress.  Their  statements 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  189 

have  been  copied  by  nearly  all  historians  since, 
and  have  been  accepted  as  true  by  the  people 
at  large.  Nevertheless,  the  statements  of  Ira 
Allen  and  Dr.  Williams  are  directly  contradicted 
by  others,  whose  knowledge  of  the  facts  of  the 
case  and  entire  honesty  cannot  be  successfully 
impeached,  and  especially  by  one  whose  word, 
were  it  not  supported  —  as  it  is  abundantly  - 
by  others,  and  by  many  corroborating  circum 
stances,  appears  to  me  to  be  absolutely  con 
clusive. 

Nathan  Bernan  was  Allen's  guide  on  that 
occasion.  He  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  intelli 
gent  and  honest.  He  had  as  a  boy  played  with 
the  children  of  the  officers  of  the  fort,  and 
knew  every  nook  and  angle  of  it.  It  was 
because  of  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
fortress  and  the  grounds  around  it,  and  his 
general  intelligence,  that  he  was  selected  by 
Allen  for  this  responsible  duty.  From  the  cir 
cumstances  of  the  case  he  was  by  Allen's  side 
continuously.  This  Nathan  Beman  must  have 
known  the  facts  of  the  matter,  and  he  always 
and  repeatedly  asserted,  in  the  most  positive 
manner,  in  after  years,  that  Arnold  did  not 


190  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

accompany  the  expedition,  was  not  present  with 
the  party  on  the  night  of  the  attack  and 
capture,  and  did  not  arrive  at  Ticonderoga  till 
several  days  after  its  capture.  Beman's  testi 
mony  was  fully  and  often  corroborated  by  many 
others  who  had  knowledge  of  the  facts,  nor  did 
Ethan  Allen,  in  his  account  of  the  affair,  make 
the  least  mention  of  or  allusion  to  Arnold  as 
being  present  until  after  the  capture  of  the 
fort.  The  fact  seems  to  us  as  firmly  established 
as  competent  testimony  can  establish  any  fact 
of  history,  that  Benedict  Arnold  was  not  with 
the  expedition,  and  had  no  part  whatever  in 
the  capture  of  Ticonderoga. 

WIXOOSKI    RIVER. 

The  Winooski  River  is  not  only  a  very  beauti 
ful  stream,  but  to  a  peculiar  degree  historic. 
The  Abenakis  Indians  originally  occupied  the 
east  side  of  the  lake  from  opposite  Mohawk 
Rock  to  the  northern  end  of  Missisquoi  Bay, 
and  the  Winooski  River  was,  because  of  its 
multitude  of  salmon  and  the  beauty  of  its  banks, 
a  favorite  resort  of  theirs.  It  was  along  this 
river  also  that  the  old  Indian  trail  ran  which 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  191 

led  over  to  the  Connecticut,  and  was  much  used 
by  all  the  northern  tribes  in  friendship  with 
the  Abenakis,  in  their  annual  migrations  to  and 
from  the  seacoast.  The  Indians  and  French 
alike  used  this  route  in  their  forays  against  the 
English  settlements  in  western  Massachusetts. 
It  was  down  this  river  that  the  captives  taken 
at  Deerfield  were  brought  in  the  winter  of  1704, 
on  their  fearful  journey  to  Canada.  There  is 
no  section  in  Now  England  more  interesting  to 
those  who  are  curious  as  to  ancient  times  and 
early  colonial  matters  than  that  which  lies 
between  Burlington  Bay  and  Missisquoi  Bay. 
The  Abenakis  were  not  only  a  brave  tribe,  but 
a  large  and  most  ancient  one.  The  famous  Urn 
in  the  Museum  of  the  University  is  believed  to 
be  of  their  manufacture,  and  its  artistic  excel 
lence  is  of  such  high  order  as  to  provoke  curi 
osity  as  to  the  origin  of  this  ancient  people, 
and  the  development  of  manufacture  among 
them.  At  the  mouth  of  the  La  Moille  River 
they  evidently  had  a  large  and  permanent  en 
campment,  for  many  graves  have  been  dis 
covered  there  in  which  the  skeletons  exhumed 
were  found  to  have  been  buried  in  a  sitting 


192  LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

posture,  facing  westward,  and  in  these  were 
many  aboriginal  relics  finished  with  great  per 
fection.  The  whole  region  is  of  interest  to 
antiquarians. 

IRA    ALLEX. 

Ira  Allen  was  the  youngest  of  six  sons,  and 
was  born  in  Cornwall,  Ct.,  April  21,  1751. 
His  brother,  Ethan  Allen,  was  the  first-born, 
and  became  more  noted  in  the  annals  of  the 
times  from  the  accident  of  age  and  circum 
stance  rather  than  from  superior  ability ;  for  Ira 
Allen,  in  many  respects,  outranked  him  in 
mental  capacity,  especially  as  applied  to  the 
management  of  commercial  affairs.  The  ser 
vices  he  rendered  the  State  of  Vermont,  which, 
in  fact,  he  organized -- for  no  one  could  claim 
that  the  timid  and  slow-moving  Chittenden  was 
anything  more  than  a  figurehead  in  the  spirited 
movements  and  audacious  negotiations  of  the 
time  —  wrere  of  the  highest  order.  Allowing 
that  he  was  subtle  to  a  degree,  at  times  an  intri 
gant  to  the  verge  of  disloyalty,  and  unduly 
moved  by  personal  and  selfish  considerations,  it 
should  nevertheless  be  remembered  that  in  these 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  193 

characteristics  he  simply  reflected  the  fashion  of 
the  times  and  the  habits  of  the  men  with  whom 
he  was  associated.  Surrounded  by  sharpers,  it 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  he  became  at  times 
and  in  certain  connections  a  sharper  himself. 
The  Aliens  were  not  saints,  and  Ira,  like  his 
brothers,  would  not.  we  presume,  by  a  conclave 
of  angels,  have  been  selected  for  canonization. 
But  his  faults  were  largely  those  of  nature,  and 
his  failings  such  as  were  shared  with  him  by 
the  best  of  his  associates.  The  leading  spirits 
that  with  their  shrewdness  and  their  courage, 
out  of  fourfold  opposition,  hewed  the  State  of 
Vermont,  were  nearly  all  born  in  Connecticut 
and  New  Hampshire,  which  is  the  same  as 
saying  that  they  were  u  on  the  make."  and 
had  little  scruple  how  they  made  it,  if  Avithin 
the  law.  And  as  at  first  there  was  no  law 
save  such  as  their  ambition  dictated  and  their 
rifles  enforced,  they  did  pretty  much  as  they 
pleased.  To  them  the  valley  of  Champlain  was 
as  the  promised  land  to  the  Israelites,  and 
they  went  in  to  possess  it,  and  they  did  ! 

It  should  be   remembered  that  Ethan  Allen 
was  taken  prisoner  soon  after  the   commence- 


194  LAKE    CIIAMPLAIX. 

ment  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  was  car 
ried  a  captive  to  England.  Remember  Baker 
-  probably  the  most  able  of  the  group  —  was 
killed  at  Isle  la  Noix  by  an  Indian.  Seth 
Warner  joined  the  Continental  army,  as  also 
did  others  of  prominence  —  so  that  Thomas 
Chittenden  and  Ira  Allen  were  left  in  absolute 
control  of  public  affairs.  These  two  men  were, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  dictators.  Allen 
was  by  far  the  stronger  spirit  and  of  more 
brilliant  parts.  His  physical  appearance  was 
unusually  attractive ;  his  address  pleasing,  and 
his  manners  those  of  a  gentleman.  In  counsel 
he  was  astute,  and  in  action  bold ;  to  the  ability 
and  courage  of  his  family  was,  in  his  case, 
added  suavity ;  the  smooth  suavity  of  a  natural 
born  diplomat.  His  mind  was  capable  of  large 
conceptions,  and  his  disposition  was  generous. 
He  was  public-spirited  to  a  degree,  especially 
where  his  own  interests  were  coincident  with 
those  of  the  public. 

As  a  city,  Burlington  owes  to  him  its  early 
prominence,  and  the  university  which  crowns 
its  site,  its  existence  and  location.  It  was  his 
hand  that  drew  the  memorial  to  the  Legislature 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  195 

one  hundred  years  ago — 1789  —  which  secured 
for  it  the  assistance  of  the  State  and  its  location 
at  Burlington.  lie  accompanied  the  memorial 
with  a  subscription  of  £4,000. 

At  this  time,  Ira  Allen  was  one  of  the  richest 
men  in  the  country,  lie  owned  three  hundred 
thousand  acres  of  land  on  the  shore  of  the  lake. 
His  immense  domain  stretched  from  Ferrisburg 
to  the  Canada  line,  and  included  the  most  de 
sirable  land  of  eleven  townships.  To  me,  having 
knowledge  of  the  territory  embraced,  the  magnifi 
cent  forests  standing  on  it,  the  immense  fisheries 
with  which  it  abounded,  the  marble  quarries  it 
contained,  the  wealth  of  its  soils,  and  the  majestic 
scenery  which  distinguished  it,  it  was  the  most 
magnificent  estate  ever  owned  by  one  individual 
in  a  civilized  community  on  the  globe. 

Of  the  misfortunes  that  befell  him  in  later 
years  ;  of  the  injustice  he  experienced,  and  the 
miseries  he  endured ;  how  he  was  robbed  of 
reputation  and  property  ;  how  his  liberty  even 
was  threatened,  and  to  escape  unjust  imprison 
ment  he  was  compelled  to  fly  the  State  he  had 
created,  may  not  be  written  here.  The  wrongs 
and  misfortunes  of  Ira  Allen,  on  the  eastern  side 


196  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

of  the  lake,  and  of  William  Gilliland,  on  the 
shore  directly  opposite,  are  the  direst  I  ever 
read  of  inflicted  on  deserving  men,  under  form 
of  law,  in  a  civilized  community.  It  is  enough 
to  say  that  the  man  whose  wisdom  and  courage 
created  Vermont  ;  whose  diplomacy  preserved 
it  from  devastation  by  the  British ;  whose  fore 
sight  made  the  victory  at  Bennington  possible 
to  American  arms ;  whose  public  spirit  and  gen 
erosity  erected  its  university,  and  who,  by  his 
ability  in  business,  became  its  wealthiest  citizen, 
died  in  exile  and  poverty,  and  was  buried  by 
charity  in  an  unknown  grave.  And,  stranger 
than  all,  there  is  not  within  the  borders  of 
Vermont  a  monument  or  even  a  tablet  erected 
to  his  memory  ! 

THE    BOUQUET    RIVER. 

By  one  event  this  little  and  little-known 
stream  is  lifted  into  historic  prominence,  and 
is  connected  with  famous  measures  and  men  ;  an 
event  which  brought  the  attention  of  Europe  to 
its  banks,  and  profoundly  stirred  the  humane 
emotions  of  mankind.  It  is  strange  that  a  spot 
should  be  forgotten  on  which  an  act  was  done, 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  197 

only  122  years  ago,  of  so  horrible  a  nature  that 
it  awoke  the  thunders  of  Chatham's  eloquence, 
and  filled  with  horror  the  bosom  of  the  Christian 
world ;  an  act  which  harmonized  the  popular 
factions  in  the  American  colonies  and  united 
them  in  one  common  impulse  of  indignation  and 
rage  against  the  host  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga. 
It  seems  fitting  that  I  should  rescue  from  for- 
getfulness  the  act  which  made  the  Bouquet 
noted  throughout  a  hemisphere,  and  will  for 
ever  make  it  noted  in  the  history  of  the 
continent. 

Previous  to  his  advance,  Burgoyne  had  sent 
out  a  summons  to  the  Indians  to  meet  him  at 
the  falls  of  the  Bouquet.  The  result  was  that 
they  obeyed  him  in  such  numbers  and  animated 
with  such  ferocity  that  he  was  alarmed,  and 
filled  with  forebodings  as  to  the  issue  of  his  own 
act.  It  was  June  20,  1777.  that  he  convened 
the  chiefs  in  council.  The  council  was  held 
about  half  a  mile  below  the  house  of  William 
Gilliland.  Burgoyne  addressed  them  and  in 
vited  them  to  join  him  in  his  campaign  against 
the  Americans.  A  chief  —  chosen  to  represent 
the  assembled  tribes  —  accepted  the  invitation 


198  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

in  a  speech  of  such  eloquence  and  ferocity  that 
it  startled  the  English  officers  —  for  in  it  he 
pledged  his  kindred  to  a  merciless  warfare 
against  the  colonies.  The  treaty  was  ratified 
writh  savage  orgies,  and  England  stood  con 
demned  for  enlisting  wild  hordes  of  savages  as 
her  allies  in  a  contest  against  men  of  her  own 
blood  and  civilization.  What  a  subject  this 
famous  council  and  the  influences  of  it  would 
make  for  a  historic  poem  or  romance ! 

BATEAUX. 

These  boats  are  constantly  mentioned,  not 
only  in  the  early  records  of  military  operations 
on  the  lake,  but  as  supplying  the  settlers  with 
their  principal  means  of  transportation  in  times 
of  peace.  They  were  not  only  in  use  upon 
Champlain,  but  also  upon  the  Hudson  and  the 
Mohawk.  We  have  often  been  asked  what  was 
the  fashion  of  these  popular  and  most  service 
able  craft  ?  To  this  interrogation  the  correct 
answer  is  —  that  they  were  long  narrow  boats 
with  flat  bottoms.  They  were  from  six  to 
twelve  feet  in  width,  and  from  sixteen  to  thirty 
feet  in  length.  As  a  rule,  they  were  not  decked 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  199 

over,  hut  some  had  a  partial  deck  and  a  cahin 
at  the  stern.  They  were  propelled  by  oars  and 
sails  both.  In  shallow  water  they  were  pushed 
along  by  poles.  They  drew,  even  when  loaded, 
but  a  foot  or  so  of  water,  and  running  before 
a  good  wind  sailed  quite  fast.  I  have  seen  the 
large  bateaux  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  with  their 
immense  square  sails,  running  before  the  wind, 
outsail  the  crack  yachts  of  the  Canadians. 

THE  BOUQUET  is  a  picturesque  and  beautiful 
river.  Its  source  is  among  the  Adirondacks, 
and  its  course  a  long  and  crooked  one.  It  flowrs 
into  the  lake  at  \Villsborough.  It  may  have 
been  named  after  General  Bouquet,  or  from  the 
multitude  of  flowers  which  in  spring  and  sum 
mer  adorned  its  banks,  or  from  bouquet,  the 
French  word  for  flume  or  trough,  which  term  is 

c_^       ' 

descriptive  of  the  appearance  of  the  river  below 
the  falls.  At  these  falls  the  original  settlement 
of  William  Gilliland,  Esq.,  was  made.  This 
remarkable  and  noted  man  was  the  great 
pioneer  -of  the  western  shore  of  Champlain. 
His  history,  in  its  vicissitudes,  struggles,  wrongs, 
and  forlorn  death,  surpasses  the  -creations  of  the 


200  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

wildest  romance.  The  Bouquet  and  Wills- 
borough,  are  well  worth  visiting,  if  for  no  other 
object  than  in  respect  to  the  memory  of  the 
noble  and  unhappy  man  who  first  selected  its 
lovely  banks  for  his  home.  (See  note  on  Wil 
liam  Gilliland.)  A  part  of  General  Burgoyne's 
fleet  entered  the  Bouquet,  and  British  gunboats 
bombarded  and  captured  Willsborough  village 
during  the  War  of  1812. 

THE  FOUR  BROTHERS  —  or  Iks  de  Quatre 
Vents,  The  Islands  of  the  Four  Winds,  as  the 
French  named  them — are  a  beautiful  group  of 
islands,  and  should  be  visited  by  all  tourists  of 
the  lake.  The  French  gave  characteristic  and 
vividly  descriptive  names  to  physical  objects  and 
geographical  peculiarities.  They  were  excelled 
only  by  the  aboriginals  in  this  respect.  The 
English  had  less  imagination  and  poetry  in  their 
make-up,  and  hence  their  nomenclature  is  puerile 
or  vulgar.  Their  rude  displacement  of  French 
and  Indian  names  was  a  misfortune  to  the 
country.  I  cannot  better  illustrate  this  than 
by  reminding  the  reader,  as  his  eyes  dwell  upon 
one  of  the  loftiest  peaks  of  the  Green  Moun- 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  201 

tains,  that  the  French  called  it  "Lion  Couchant" 
-  a  noble  appellation.  The  English  looked  at 
the  same  sublime  formation  and  called  it 
"Camel's  Rump!"  a  damnable  name.  It  has 
since  been  "improved"  by  us  Americans  into 
"  Camel's  Hump."  Ye  gods,  what  a  name  for 
such  a  noble  mountain  !  I  pray  you,  reader, 
help  me  to  popularize  the  old  French  appella 
tion  of  "  The  Crouching  Lion." 

FISH    AND    FISHING. 

The  abundance  of  fish  in  Lake  Champlain 
when  its  shores  were  first  settled  was  a  matter 
of  surprise  to  the  settlers.  The  records  that 
were  made  at  that  time  by  honest  and  honorable 
men,  while  they  stir  astonishment,  nevertheless 
are  above  impeachment.  It  is  doubtful  if  any 
body  of  water  on  the  continent  was  ever  visited 
by  such  vast  numbers  of  salmon  as  Champlain 
once  was.  The  rivers  flowing  into  the  lake 
were  as  thick  with  them,  at  times,  as  are  the 
rivers  of  the  Pacific  coast  to-day.  It  was  dan 
gerous  -to  attempt  to  ride  a  spirited  horse 
through  them  because  of  the  multitude  of 
salmon  that  actually  packed  the  water.  As  late 


202  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

as  1823,  fifteen  hundred  fwunds  were  taken  at 
Chesterfield,  at  one  haul  of  the  seine.  They 
were  taken  in  great  quantities  at  Plattsburg 
in  1824-25.  Civilization  has  its  triumphs,  it  is 
true,  but  what  a  pity  that  it  achieves  them  at 
the  cost  of  such  a  vast  destruction.  If  the 
lake  had  the  fish  to-day  that  it  had  even  fifty 
years  ag^o,  it  would  bring;  millions  of  dollars 

«/  o 

to  the  two  States  that  border  its  waters. 

CLOYEX    ROCK. 

It  is  a  pity  that  the  name  "  Split "  has  been 
allowed  to  fix  itself  to  this  singular  and  pic 
turesque  formation.  The  French  called  it 
Roclie  rendu,  and  its  original  name  in  English 
was  Cloven  Rock.  May  I  ask  that  pilots, 
correspondents,  and  tourists  assist  me  to  restore 
to  it  its  old-time  appropriate  name  ?  Cloven 
Rock  contains  considerable  surface,  and  is  sepa 
rated  from  the  promontory  near  it  by  a  fissure 
some  ten  feet  wide.  Much  exaggeration  is 
indulged  in  by  makers  of  "  guide-books  "  touch 
ing  this  physical  curiosity,  especially  as  to  the 
depth  of  the  fissure ;  some  stating  that  it  goes 
down  five  hundred  feet !  the  fact  being  it  doesn't 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  203 

go  doicn  at  all.  For  at  low  water  the  tourist 
can  walk  through  the  fissure  on  solid  rock  and 
dry  rock  at  that  !  But  who  expects  facts  in  a 
imide-book  ? 


- 


ESSEX,  originally  called  Elizabeth,  was  named 
by  William  GillilancL  the  original  proprietor 
of  the  site  of  the  village,  after  his  wife. 
Elizabethtown  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  it, 
although  named  by  the  same  party  and  for  the 
same  reason.  Mr.  Gilliland  designated  many 
places  within  the  limits  of  his  immense  posses 
sions  by  the  names  of  members  of  his  family. 

CRAB  ISLAND  was  originally  called  St. 
Michael's  Island.  After  Macdonough's  battle, 
it  was  called  Hospital  Island,  because  those  who 
were  wounded  in  that  fight,  whether  American 
or  English,  were  landed  there  for  treatment. 

VALCOUR  ISLAND  is  in  New  York  State,  and 
is  the  largest  island  in  the  lake*  belonging  to 
that  State.  It  is  a  most  interesting  spot,  his 
torically  considered.  Between  it  and  the  west 
ern  shore,  Arnold  fought  his  desperate  fight 
with  Carleton.  On  the  east  side  Amherst  cap- 


204  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

tured  the  French  bateaux  fleeing  from  Crown 
Point  toward  Canada,  and  thus  extinguished  for 
ever  the  French  possession  of  and  title  to  the 
lake.  To  the  northeast  of  the  same  island, 
Macdonough  won  his  famous  victory. 

THE  LA  MOILLE  RIVER.  -  -  This  river  was  un 
doubtedly  entered  by  Champlain  in  1G09.  It 
was  called  by  him  La  Mouette,  or  Gull  River, 
because  this  species  of  birds  were  very  plentiful 
at  its  mouth.  In  Charlevoix's  map  of  1744,  it 
is  written  La  Riviere  a  la  Mouelle,  this  change 
from  Champlain' s  nomenclature  being  due  un 
questionably  to  a  failure  on  the  part  of  the  writ 
ing  clerk  to  cross  the  two  fs.  The  transition 
from  La  Mouelle  to  La  Moille  is  an  easy  one. 
In  this  case  a  blunder  is  acceptable,  because 
La  Moille  is  a  pleasant  word,  but  I  confess  to  a 
wish  that  the  name  Champlain  gave  it  may  be 
preserved  and  popularized,  and  that  we  might 
still  know  it  as  lie  knew  it  —  as  La  Mouette. 

HISTORIC    SITES. 

I  presume  that  all  who  have  knowledge  of  the 
route  would  unhesitatingly  admit  that  the 
journey  by  water  from  New  York  up  the  Hud- 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  205 

son,  and  through  the  Whitehall  Canal  to  Lake 
Champlain,  and  down  the  lake  to  Rouse's  Point., 
would  bringr  the  vo  vaster  in  view  of  more  lovely 

D  «/       O  »/ 

and  majestic  scenery  and  memorable  historic 
sites  than  any  other  tour  of  equal  length  that 
might  be  taken  on  the  continent.  For  on  this 
voyage  he  would  pass  West  Point  and  old  Fort 
Orange  —  now  Albany — and  in  sight  of  the 
very  spot  where  stood  the  tree  to  which  Putnam 
was  bound  to  be  tortured  in  1757;  Forts  Edward 
and  Miller  —  near  the  former  of  which  Miss 
McCrea  was  murdered.  He  would  pass  near  the 
spot  where  General  Burgoyne  surrendered  his 
sword,  October  17,  1777,  and  where  the  brave 
Frazier  fell.  Farther  on  is  the  South  Bay  of 
Lake  Champlain,  where  General  Dieskau  landed 
his  forces  in  his  vain  attempt  to  capture  General 
Johnson's  army  on  Lake  George.  Then  he  would 
come  to  the  world-renowned  ruins  of  Ticon- 
deroga,  and  a  little  farther  on  to  Crown  Point, 
where  the  French,  in  1731,  built  Fort  St. 
Frederick,  and,  later,  General  Amherst,  in  1759, 
began  the  magnificent  fortress  that  was  cap 
tured  from  the  English  by  Colonel  Seth  Warner, 
the  day  after  Ethan  Allen  seized,  with  his  band 


206  LAKE    CIIAMPLAIX. 

of  Green  Mountain  boys,  Ticonderoga.  At 
Valcour  Island,  he  beholds  the  scene  of  the 
brave  naval  fight  Arnold  made  with  the  English 
fleet,  and,  to  the  east  of  the  same  island,  the 
spot  where  the  English  gunboats,  under  Amherst, 
captured  the  last  boats  to  bear  the  French  flag 
on  the  lake,  as  they  were  fleeing  northward 
after  they  had  evacuated  Crown  Point.  Between 
this  island  and  Cumberland  Head,  he  sails  over 
water  where  the  brave  Macdonough  won  his 
great  victory  against  his  equally  brave  but  less 
fortunate  antagonist  —  one  of  the  fiercest  con 
flicts  ever  fought  by  ships  on  any  water.  While 
at  the  Isle  La  Motte,  he  can  still  see  the  mounds 
that  mark  the  spot  where  once  stood  Fort  St. 
Anne  —  the  first  fort  built  on  the  lake,  and 
around  whose  walls  was  the  first  settlement 
ever  made  by  civilized  men  in  the  State  of 
Vermont  or  on  the  lake.  For  Fort  Anne  was 
built  in  166-5,  while  the  little  fort  on  Chimney 
Point  was  erected  in  1690,  and  old  Fort  Dum- 
mer  —  a  mere  block  house  —  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  Connecticut,  was  put  up  in  1724.  Is  it 
not  a  strange  thing  that  so  few  Americans  have 
ever  gone  over  this  course,  unequalled  as  it 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  zOl 

is    for   the    beauty    of    its    scenery,    and    the 
multitude    of    its    historic    sites    and    inspiring 


memories  ? 


VERGEXXES 

Is  a  most  interesting  locality.  Although  in 
respect  to  its  population  it  is  but  a  village,  and 
not  a  large  one  at  that,  it,  nevertheless,  is  one 
of  the  oldest  cities  in  the  United  States,  for  it 
was  incorporated  October  23,  1788.  By  its 
ancient  charter  of  incorporation  it  is  four  hun 
dred  and  eighty  by  four  hundred  rods  in  extent. 
Its  first  mayor  was  elected  March  12,  1789. 
He  was  Enoch  Woodbridge,  subsequently  chief 
justice  of  the  Supreme  Court.  In  1798,  a  State- 
house  was  erected  here,  and  in  that  year  the 
General  Assembly  held  its  session  in  it. 

The  first  settler  was  Donald  Mclntosh,  a 
native  of  Scotland.  He  fought  in  the  battle  of 
Culloden.  He  emigrated  to  this  country  with 
General  AYolfe's  army,  and  died  July  14,  1803, 
aged  eighty-four  years.  Otter  River  passes 
through  the  city,  and  its  falls  give  abundant 
power  for  manufacturing  purposes.  During  the 
war  this  power  was  utilized  far  more  than  it  is 


208  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

now.  The  river  is  navigable  to  the  foot  of  the 
falls,  some  seven  miles  from  the  lake,  for  vessels 
of  large  draft.  It  was  here  that  Macdonongh 
fitted  out  his  fleet  with  which  he  won  his  cele 
brated  victory  against  the  English  off  Platts- 
burg.  It  has  an  excellent  hotel,  and  is  one  of 
the  prettiest  villages  on  the  shore  of  the  lake. 
Tourists  would  find  the  sail  up  the  river  and  a 
stroll  through  this  little  old  city  most  enjoyable. 

TICOKDEROGA. 

That  the  reader  may  have  certain  momentous 
events  in  close  sequence  and  easily  memorized, 
I  would  note,  — 

That  the  skirmish  at  Lexington  occurred 
April  19,  1775. 

Ethan  Allen,  with  his  band  of  followers,  cap 
tured  Ticonderoga  May  10,  1775. 

Seth  Warner  captured  the  fortress  at  Crown 
Point  the  next  day. 

In  these  forts  they  found  more  than  two  hun 
dred  pieces  of  cannon,  some  mortars,  howitzers, 
and  an  immense  amount  of  military  stores,  and 
beside  these  a  large  quantity  of  ship  and  boat 
building  material.  Soon  after,  the  only  armed 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  209 

sloop  on  the  lake  was  captured  at  St.  Johns. 
And  thus  at  the  very  beginning  cf  the  Revolu 
tionary  War,  Lake  Cham  plain,  with  all  its  power 
and  prestige,  and  which  had  cost  England  half 
a  century  to  capture,  passed  into  the  hands  of 
the  patriots.  Many  of  the  cannon  captured  at 
Ticonderoga  were  drawn  by  ox-teams  to  Boston, 
and  enabled  General  Washington  to  make  good 
his  works  on  Dorchester  Heights. 

THE    EARLY    HISTORY    OF    VERMONT. 

As   a   matter    of    interest    to    the    younger 

J  o 

readers  of  these  pages,  I  make  the  following 
epitomized  statement  of  facts  relating  to  Ver 
mont  before  she  became  a  State. 

The  tract  of  unoccupied  mountainous  terri 
tory  which  lay  in  1749  between  Connecticut 
River  and  Lake  Cham/plain  was  then  claimed 
by  both  the  provinces  of  New  Hampshire  and 
New  York.  Both,  of  course,  were  English 
provinces  and  under  royal  governors.  In  that 
year  the  governor  of  New  Hampshire  began  to 
make  grants  to  individuals  and  town  charters 
to  organized  bodies.  The  governor  of  New 
York  was  greatly  incensed  at  this  proceeding  of 


210  LAKE    CIIAMPLAIX. 

liis  rival,  and  carried  the  matter  to  the  king  in 
England.  In  1764,  it  was  decided  by  him  that 
all  the  territory  west  of  the  Connecticut  and 
east  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  on  a  line  drawn 
through  Lake  Champlain,  belonged  to  the 
Province  of  New  York.  But  during  these 
sixteen  years,  before  the  matter  was  thus  de 
cided,  the  governor  of  New  Hampshire  had 
made  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  (/rants  to  Ijona- 
fide  settlers,  chiefly  to  men  of  character  and 
means  from  Massachusetts.  Rhode  Island,  and 
Connecticut.  These  "  grants  "  thus  given  (sold) 
to  these  settlers  by  the  governor  of  New  Hamp 
shire,  the  governor  of  New  York  pronounced 
null  and  void,  and  summoned  said  settlers  to 
purchase  new  titles  to  their  land  of  him.  Un 
fortunately, -he  fixed  the  price  at  a  very  high 
figure.  Some  of  the  towns  complied  with  his 
demand,  but  the  majority  refused  to  pay  twice 
over  for  their  lands.  This  is  why  what  is  now 
Vermont  was  originally  called  "  New  Hamp 
shire  Grants,"  and  how  they  were  brought  into 
a  contest  with  New  York,  which  lasted  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  and  was  of  a  most  bitter  char 
acter. 


HISTORICAL    REMINISCENCES.  211 

The  governor  of  New  York  acted  with  great 
energy,  not  to  say  cruelty,  in  the  matter;  for  he 
proceeded  to  grant  the  lands  which  the  settlers 
would  not  repurchase,  to  others,  and  actions  of 
ejectment  were  brought,  and  judgment  obtained 
against  them  in  the  Albany  courts.  The  set 
tlers  on  the  grants  were  thus  compelled  either  to 
surrender  the  lands  they  had  paid  for  and  the 
houses  they  had  built  and  the  improvements 
they  had  made,  or  resist  these  unjust  proceed 
ings  against  them.  As  they  were  brave  men, 
they  naturally  decided  on  the  latter  course,  and 
when  the  New  York  officers  came  among  them 
to  eject  them  from  their  possessions  by  force, 
they  resisted  them  with  arms.  Many  of  these 
officers  were  roughlv  handled,  and  treated  to 

o      «/ 

flagellations  more  or  less  severe ;  whence  arose 
the  term  "  Beech  Seal,"  viz.,  if  a  sheriff  had  the 
"Beech  Seal"  put  upon  him,  it  meant  that  he 
had  been  publicly  whipped.  The  grim  humor 
of  the  term  was  fully  appreciated,  no  doubt,  by 
one  of  the  parties  to  the  transaction,  at  least. 
It  is  to  the  honor  of  the  militia  of  New  York  to 
record  that  they  refused  to  be  parties  to  the  at 
tempt  to  enforce  so  unjust  a  decision. 


212  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

It  was  amid  such  scenes  and  in  defence  of 
the  rights  of  the  settlers  that  Ethan  Allen 
came  into  prominence.  He  was  born  in  Con 
necticut  and  came  of  good  stock.  With  him 
and  with  equal  spirit  stood  Remember  Baker, 
who  was  born  in  Connecticut  also.  No  bolder 
men  ever  lived  ;  nor  were  they  lacking  in  educa 
tion  or  sagacity.  These  two  rallied  their  fellow- 
settlers  to  the  contest,  and  devised  measures  for 
the  common  welfare.  In  1774  the  governor  of 
New  York  caused  an  act  to  be  passed  to  the 
effect  that  unless  the  offenders  surrendered 
themselves  to  the  authorities  of  that  province 
within  seventy  days  they  should  be  indicted  in 
a  court  of  that  colony  for  a  capital  offence,  and, 
if  convicted,  should  suffer  death  without  benefit 
of  clergy.  At  the  same  time  a  proclamation 
was  issued  offering  a  reward  of  fifty  pounds  for 
the  apprehension  of  Ethan  Allen,  Seth  Warner, 
and  six  others.  This  embittered  the  feeling  of 
the  settlers,  and  the  conflict  grew  hotter  and 
hotter  until  the  breaking  out  of  the  war 
between  Great  Britain  and  the  colonies  put  a 
stop  to  the  controversy  for  the  time  being.  As 
to  what  followed,  I  must  refer  my  readers  to  the 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  213 

histories  of  the  time,  as  I  may  not  extend  this 


note  to  greater  length. 


THE    FIRST    SETTLEMENT    IN    VERMONT. 

As  there  has  been  much  difference  in  the 
statements  of  local  historians  as  to  when  and 
whore  the  first  settlement  by  white  men  was 
made  in  Vermont,  we  will  record  the  following 
facts  :  - 

Fort  Dummer  was  built  in  1724,  and  was 
located  in  the  present  town  of  Brattleboro  —  at 
the  south-east  corner  of  it.  It  was  an  ordinary 
block  house  built  of  logs,  and  not  of  large 
size.  It  was  strictly  a  military  post  and  not  a 
settlement  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word. 

In  1090  (March  20)  Captain  Jacobus  de  Warm 
was  sent  from  Albany  with  a  small  body  of 
men  to  build  a  fort  at  the  narrows  of  the  lake, 
near  what  afterward  was  known  as  Crown 
Point.  He  built  a  small  stone  fort  at  what  is 
now  Chimney  Point,  in  the  town  of  Addison. 

From  this  it  appears  that  the  settlement  at 
Chimney  Point  in  the  town  of  Addison  was 
made  thirty-four  years  earlier  than  the  one 
made  in  Brattleboro. 


214  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

The  third  fact  is  that  the  French  built  Fort 
St.  Anne,  afterward  named,  from  the  oflicer  who 
constructed  it,  Fort  La  Motte,  upon  the  Isle  La 
Motte,  in  the  year  1665.  Of  this  there  is  and 
can  he  no  cniestion.  It  therefore  appears  that 
the  settlement  on  Isle  La  Motte  was  made 
twenty-five  years  before  that  at  Chimney  Point, 
and  fifty-nine  years  before  Fort  Dummer  was 
built  on  the  Connecticut,  at  Brattleboro.  The 
location  of  this  old  fort,  which,  were  it  now 
standing,  would  be  over  two  centuries  old,  can 
still  be  traced  by  discernible  mounds,  on  one  of 
which  stands  a  white  pine  over  six  feet  in  diam 
eter.  The  Isle  La  Motte  is  regarded  by  many 
as  the  most  beautiful  one  in  the  lake. 

CHAMPLAIN    AT    BURLINGTOX. 

Hon.  Thomas  H.  Canfield,  several  years  since, 
made  a  very  _exhaustive  canvass  of  the  facts 
bearing  upon  this  question,  and  a  written 
presentation  of  them,  as  brought  out  by 
this  examination.  Indeed  his  article  is  one 
of  the  clearest  in  point  of  style,  and  valuable 
as  viewed  in  the  light  of  material  collected, 
of  all  the  numberless  ones  that  have  been  pre- 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  215 

pared  by  native  writers,  for  it  includes  not  only 
the  evidences  which  go  to  prove  that  Champlain 
entered  the  Winooski,  but  a  vast  amount  of  in 
formation  concerning  the  early  navigation  of 
the  lake,  and  many  other  interesting  matters 
associated  with  it.  Without  entering  into  a 
full  exposition  of  my  views  touching  Cham- 
plain's  visit  to  the  vicinity  of  Burlington  Bay, 
I  beg  to  state  that  there  is  no  reason  to  think 
that  he  did  not  enter  the  Winooski,  while  there 
exists  the  strongest  evidence  to  prove  that  he 
did.  It  is  in  his  own  record  that  he  entered 
the  La  Moille  River  —  Riviere  de  la  Mouette  or 
Gull  River,  as  lie  called  it  —  and,  from  inference, 
it  follows  that  he  would  not  pass  the  Winooski 
without  entering  it  also.  I  make  no  doubt  but 
that  he  went  up  the  Winooski  as  far  as  the 
falls,  and  that  he  visited  Burlington  Bay,  getting 

<_>  J  y  o  o 

his  first  view  of  it.  probably,  from  some  point 
between  what  is  now  the  park  and  the  railway 
tunnel.  From  this  point  he  could  clearly  dis 
cern  the  mountains  to  the  south  and  west  on  the 
western  shore,  —  as  he  says  in  his  journal  he  did, 
-which  he  could  not  do  from  any  other  point 
so  clearly  unless  it  may  have  been  from  Apple- 


216  LAKE   CIIAMPLA1N. 

Tree  Point.  From  one  of  these  two  positions  he 
undoubtedly  got  his  first  glimpses  of  Mohawk 
Rock,  of  which  and  its  significance  as  marking 
the  boundary  line  between  the  United  People 
and  the  northern  Indians  he  must  have  been 
repeatedly  told  by  his  savage  associates  from 
the  hour  they  first  entered  the  lake.  His 
allusion  also  to  **  groves  of  chestnut-trees " 
fixes,  conclusively,  the  fact  of  his  presence  in 
this  locality,  for  it  is  well  known  that  the 
chestnut-tree  was  not  indigenous  on  the  western 
shore  of  the  lake  to  a  point  so  far  north,  while 
it  is  well  established  that  large  groves  of  chest 
nut-trees  were  standing  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  lake  at  least  as  far  north  as  the  La  Moille 
River. 

SOURCE    OF    MODERN    SOILS. 

The  rich  soils  of  the  Champlain  Valley,  which 
to-day  are  so  productive  under  cultivation,  are 
accounted  for  by  the  geological  fact  that,  at  not 
a  very  remote  period,  much  of  it  was  under 
ocean  water.  The  shells  of  mollusks  are  found 
in  abundance  in  the  clays  and  sand  several  hun 
dred  feet  above  the  present  water  level.  The 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  217 

bones  of  the  whale  now  in  the  State  Museum 
were  discovered  sixty  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
lake.  These  rich  soils,  which  are  the  source  of 
modern  agricultural  wealth,  were  —  geologically 
speaking  —  recently  covered  with  the  waters  of 
the  ocean,  and  were  permanently  enriched 
thereby.  Portions  of  Chittenden,  Addison,  Rut 
land,  and  Franklin  counties,  and  the  whole  of 
Grand  Isle,  share  the  benefits  of  this  creative 
cause. 

WILD    GAME. 

It  is  comparatively  but  recent  that  wrild  game 
both  of  animals  and  birds  were  unusually  plenty 
on  Lake  Champlain  and  its  shores.  As  noted 
in  another  place  in  this  volume,  salmon  were  ex 
ceedingly  plenty  in  the  Saranac  and  other  rivers 
flowing  into  the  lake,  as  late  as  1824.  Among 
birds  the  wild  pigeons  were  so  plenty  in  the 
forests  around  it  as  to  be  beyond  estimation. 
The  old  records  and  diaries  are  filled  with  men 
tion  of  them,  and  bear  ample  testimony  of  the 
astonishment  with  which  their  numbers  filled 
the  minds  of  the  early  settlers.  In  one  of  the 
towns  the  following  record  is  to  be  found : 


218  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

u  The  number  of  pigeons  is  immense.  Twenty- 
five  nests  are  often  found  on  one  tree.  Acres  of 
such  trees  are  to  be  seen  anywhere,  for  hun 
dreds  of  acres  the  ground  underneath  them  is 
covered  with  their  droppings  to  the  depth  of 
two  inches.  Their  noise  in  the  evening  and  at 
night  is  so  troublesome  that  people  cannot  sleep. 
When  the  youn^  are  in-own  to  a  suitable  size, 

i/O  O 

just  before  they  are  ready  to  fly,  it  is  common 
for  the  settlers  to  cut  down  the  trees  and  gather 
a  horse-load  in  a  few  minutes." 

THE    BEAVER. 

Among  the  wild  animals  once  exceedingly 
numerous  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Champlain 
were  the  otter  and  beaver.  The  one  family 
gave  its  name  to  the  longest  river  in  the  State, 
and  the  other  were  not  only  very  numerous  but 
were  noted  among  dealers  in  peltry  for  their 
size  and  the  high  quality  of  their  fur.  These 
extraordinary  animals  have  been  banished  the 
larger  part  of  the  continent,  and  it  is  a  rarity  to 
see  one  even  in  the  menageries  and  the  gardens 
of  natural  history.  Only  a  few  sportsmen  even, 
probably  of  my  generation,  have  ever  been  so 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  219 

placed  as  to  study  the  habits  of  these  extraordi 
nary  animals ;  and  those  of  the  generation  that 
are  to  succeed  us  will  doubtless  never  be  able  by 
any  amount  of  journeying  within  the  limits  of 
the  country  to  become  personally  acquainted 
with  them.  These  facts  suggest  to  me  the  value 
of  a  note  that  shall  preserve,  in  the  best  possible 
form  of  expression,  the  knowledge  of  the  char 
acteristics  and  the  habits  of  an  animal  the  cap 
ture  of  which  has  given  such  wide  employment 
to  commerce,  assisted  pioneer  life  in  its  develop 
ment,  and  given  to  taste  and  wealth  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  coverings  ever  made  for  human 
use.  T  do  not  propose  to  trust  my  own  knowl 
edge  in  describing  this  animal,  but  will  tran 
scribe  the  best  description  I  have  ever  read 
of  the  beaver,  as  written  by  one  of  the  early 
settlers  of  Vermont,  who  was  not  only  a  scholar 
but  a  naturalist  of  such  gifts  and  attainments 
as  few  men  enjoy.  I  refer  to  Doctor  Samuel 
Williams,  LL.D.  The  following  is  his  descrip 
tion  of.  the  "beaver  ;  and  beyond  what  he  has 
written  there  is  nothing  to  be  said  of  the  animal. 
"  The  American  beaver  is  between  three  and 
four  feet  in  length,  and  weighs  from  forty  to  sixty 


220  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

pounds.  His  head  is  like  that  of  a  rat,  inclined  to 
the  earth  ;  his  back  rises  in  an  arch  between  his 
head  and  tail.  His  teeth  are  long,  broad,  strong, 
and  sharp.  Four  of  these,  two  in  the  upper 
and  two  in  the  under  jaw,  are  called  incisors. 
These  teeth  project  one  or  two  inches  beyond 
the  jaw,  and  are  sharp,  and  curved  like  a  car 
penter's  gouge.  In  his  fore  feet  the  toes  are 
separate,  as  if  designed  to  answer  the  purposes 
of  fingers  and  hands.  His  hind  feet  are  accom 
modated  with  webs,  suited  to  the  purpose  of 
swimming.  His  tail  is  a  foot  long,  an  inch 
thick,  and  five  or  six  inches  broad.  It  is  cov 
ered  with  scales,  and  with  a  skin  similar  to  that 
of  a  fish. 

"  In  no  animal  does  the  social  instinct  and  lialnt 
appear  more  strong  or  universal  than  in  the 
beaver.  Wheresoever  a  number  of  these  ani 
mals  are  found,  they  immediately  associate  and 
combine  in  society,  to  pursue  their  common 
business  and  welfare.  Everything  is  done  by 
the  united  counsels  and  labors  of  the  whole 
community.  Their  societies  are  generally  col 
lected  together  in  the  months  of  June  and  July ; 
and  their  numbers  when  thus  collected  frequently 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  221 

amount  to  two  or  three  hundred  ;  all  of  which 
immediately  engage  in  a  joint  effort  to  promote 
the  common  business  and  safety  of  the  whole 
society ;  apparently  acting  under  a  common  in 
clination  and  direction.  When  the  beaver  is 
found  "in  a  solitary  state,  he  appears  to  be  a 
timid,  inactive,  and  stupid  animal.  Instead  of 
attempting  any  important  enterprise,  he  con 
tents  himself  with  digging  a  hole  in  the  earth 
for  safety  and  concealment.  His  genius  seems 
to  be  depressed,  his  spirits  broken,  and  every 
thing  enterprising  is  lost  in  an  attention  to 
personal  safety ;  but  he  never  loses  his  natural 
instinct  to  find  or  form  a  pond.1  When  com 
bined  in  society,  his  disposition  and  powers 
assume  their  natural  direction,  and  are  exerted 
to  the  highest  advantage.  Everything  is  then 
undertaken  which  the  beaver  is  capable  of  per 
forming. 

"  The  society  of  beavers  seems  to  be  regulated 
and  governed  altogether  by  natural  dispositions 
and  laws.  Their  society,  in  all  its  pursuits  and 

1  A  young  beaver  was  tamed  in  the  southern  part  of  this  State. 
He  became  quite  inoffensive,  and  without  any  disposition  to  depart, 
but  was  most  of  all  pleased  when  he  was  at  work  forming  a  dam 
in  a  small  stream  near  the  house. 


LAKE   CHAMPLAEST. 

operations,  appears  to  be  a  society  of  peace  and 
mutual  affection,  guided  by  one  principle,  and 
under  the  same  direction.  No  contention,  dis 
agreement,  contrary  interests  or  pursuits,  are 
ever  seen  among  them ;  but  perfect  harmony 
and  agreement  prevails  through  their  whole 
dominions.  The  principle  of  this  union  and 
regulation  is  not  the  superior  strength,  art,  or 
activity  of  any  individual.  Nothing  has  the 
appearance,  among  them,  of  the  authority  or  in 
fluence  of  a  chief  or  leader.  Their  association 
and  management  have  the  aspect  of  a  pure  and 
perfect  democracy,  founded  on  the  principle  of 
perfect  equality,  and  the  strongest  mutual 
attachment.  This  principle  seems  to  be  suffi 
cient  to  preserve  the  most  perfect  harmony,  and 
to  regulate  all  the  proceedings  of  their  largest 
societies. 

"  When  these  animals  are  collected  together, 
their  first  attention  is  to  the  piiblia  business  and 
affairs  of  the  society  to  which  they  belong. 
The  beavers  are  amphibious  animals,  and  must 
spend  one  part  of  their  time  in  the  water  and 
another  upon  the  land.  In  conformity  to  this 
law  of  their  natures,  their  first  employment  is 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  223 

to  find  a  situation  convenient  for  both  these 
purposes.  With  this  view,  a  lake,  a  pond,  or  a 
running  stream  of  water  is  chosen  for  the  scene 
of  their  habitation  and  future  operations.  Tf 
it  be  a  lake  or  a  pond  that  is  selected,  the  water 
is  always  of  such  depth  that  the  beavers  may 
have  sufficient  room  to  swim  under  the  ice,  and 
one  of  which  they  can  have  an  entire  and  un 
disturbed  possession.  If  a  stream  of  water  is 
chosen,  it  is  always  such  a  stream  as  will  form  a 
pond  that  shall  be  every  way  convenient  for 
their  purpose.  And  such  is  their  foresight  and 
comprehension  of  these  circumstances,  that  they 
never  form  an  erroneous  judgment,  or  fix  upon 
a  situation  that  will  not  answer  their  designs  and 
convenience.  Their  next  business  is  to  construct 
a  dam.  This  is  always  chosen  in  the  most  con 
venient  part  of  the  stream  ;  and  the  form  of  it 
is  either  direct,  circular,  or  with  angles,  as  the 
situation  and  circumstances  of  the  water  and 
land  require  ;  and  so  well  chosen  are  both  the 
place  and  the  form  of  these  dams,  that  no  engi 
neer  could  give  them  a  better  situation  and 
form  either  for  convenience,  strength,  or  dura 
tion.  The  materials  of  which  the  dams  are 


224  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

constructed  are  wood  and  earth.  If  there  be  a 
tree  on  the  side  of  the  river,  which  would 
naturally  fall  across  the  stream,  several  of  the 
beavers  set  themselves,  with  great  diligence,  to 
cut  it  down  with  their  teeth.  Trees  to  the  big 
ness  of  twenty  inches  diameter  are  thus  thrown 
across  a  stream.  They  next  gnaw  off  the 
branches  from  the  trunk,  that  the  tree  may 
assume  a  level  position.  Others,  at  the  same 
time,  are  cutting  down  smaller  trees  and  sap 
lings  from  one  to  ten  inches  diameter.  These 
are  cut  into  equal  and  convenient  lengths. 
Some  of  the  beavers  drag  these  pieces  of  wood 
to  the  side  of  the  river,  and  others  swim  with 
them  to  the  place  where  the  dam  is  to  be  built. 
As  many  as  can  find  room  are  engaged  in  sink 
ing  one  end  of  these  stakes,  and  as  many  more 
in  raising,  fixing,  and  securing  the  other  end. 
While  many  of  the  beavers  are  thus  laboring 
upon  the  wood,  others  are  equally  engaged  in 
carrying  on  the  earthen  part  of  the  work. 
The  earth  is  brought  in  their  mouths,  formed 
into  a  kind  of  mortar  with  their  feet  and  tails, 
and  spread  over  the  vacancies  between  the 
sticks.  Saplings  and  the  small  branches  of 


995 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 

trees  are  twisted  and  worked  up  with  the  mud 
and  slime,  until  all  the  vacancies  are  filled  up, 
and  no  crevice  is  left  in  any  part  of  the  work 
for  the  water  to  find  a  passage  through.  The 
magnitude  and  extent  of  the  dams,  which  the 
beavers  thus  construct,  is  much  larger  than  we 
should  imagine  was  possible  to  be  effected  by 
such  laborers  or  instruments.  '  At  the  bottom, 
the  dam  is  from  six  to  twelve  feet  thick  ;  at  the 
top  it  is  generally  two  or  three  feet  in  width. 
In  that  part  of  the  dam  which  is  opposed  to  the 
current,  the  stakes  are  placed  obliquely ;  but  on 
that  side  where  the  water  is  to  fall,  the  stakes 
are  placed  in  a  perpendicular  direction,  and  the 
dam  assumes  the  same  form  and  position  as  the 
stakes.  The  extent  of  these  works  is  from  fifty 
to  a  hundred  feet  in  length,  and  always  of 
such  a  height  as  to  effect  the  purposes  they 
have  in  view.  The  ponds  which  are-  formed  by 
these  dams  are  of  all  dimensions,  from  four  or 
five  to  five  or  six  hundred  acres.  They  are  gen 
erally  spread  over  lands  abounding  with  trees  and 
bushes  of  the  softest  wood,  maple,  birch,  alder, 
poplar,  willow,  etc.  The  better  to  preserve 
their  dams,  the  beavers  always  leave  sluices  or 


226  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

passages  near  the  middle  for  the  redundant 
waters  to  pass  off.  These  sluices  are  generally 
about  eighteen  inches  in  width  and  depth,  and 
as  many  in  number  as  the  waters  of  the  stream 
generally  require. 

"  When  the  public  works  are  completed ,  their 
domestic  concerns  and  affairs  next  engage  their 
attention.  The  dam  is  no  sooner  completed, 
than  the  beavers  separate  into  small  bodies,  to 
build  cabins,  or  houses  for  themselves.  These 
houses  are  built  upon  piles,  along  the  borders  of 
the  pond.  They  are  of  an  oval  form,  resembling 
the  construction  of  an  haycock;  and  they  vary 
in  their  dimensions,  from  four  to  ten  feet  in 
diameter,  according  to  the  number  of  families 
they  are  designed  to  accommodate.  They  are 
always  of  two  stories,  generally  of  three,  and 
sometimes  they  contain  four.  Their  walls  are 
from  two  to-  three  feet  in  thickness,  at  the 
bottom  ;  and  are  formed  of  the  same  material 
as  the  dams.  They  rise  perpendicularly  a  few 
feet,  then  assume  a  curved  form,  and  terminate 
in  a  dome  or  vault,  which  answers  the  purpose 
of  a  roof.  These  edifices  are  built  with  much 
solidity,  and  neatness.  On  the  inward  side,  they 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  227 

are  smooth,  but  rough  on  the  outside ;  always 
impenetrable  to  the  rain,  and  of  sufficient 
strength  to  resist  the  most  impetuous  winds. 
The  lower  story  is  about  two  feet  high :  the 
second  story  has  a  floor  of  sticks,  covered  with 
mud  :  the  third  story  is  divided  from,  the 
second,  in  the  same  manner,  and  terminated  by 
the  roof  raised  in  the  form  of  an  arch.  Through 
each  floor,  there  is  a  communication ;  and  the 
upper  floor  is  always  above  the  level  of  the 
water,  when  it  is  raised  to  its  greatest  height. 
Each  of  these  huts  has  two  doors ;  one,  on  the 
land  side,  to  enable  them  to  go  out  and  procure 
provisions  by  land  ;  another  under  the  water, 
and  below  where  it  freezes,  to  preserve  their 
communication  with  the  pond.  If  this  at  any 
time  begins  to  be  covered  with  ice,  the  ice  is 
immediately  broken,  that  the  communication 
may  not  be  cut  oft'  with  the  air. 

'-  In  these  huts,  the  families  of  the  beavers 
have  their  residence.  The  smallest  of  their  cabins 
contain  one  family,  consisting  generally  o£  five 
or  six  beavers ;  and  the  largest  of  the  buildings 
will  contain  from  twenty  to  thirty.  No  society 
of  animals  can  ever  appear  better  regulated,  or 


228  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

more  happy,  than  the  family  of  beavers.  The 
male  and  the  female  always  pair.  Their  selec 
tion  is  not  a  matter  of  chance,  or  accident ;  but 
appears  to  be  derived  from  taste,  and  mutual 
affection.  In  September,  the  happy  couple  lay 
up  their  store  of  provisions,  for  winter.  This 
consists  of  bark,  the  tender  twigs  of  trees,  and 
various  kinds  of  soft  wood.  When  their  pro 
visions  are  prepared,  the  season  of  love  and 
repose  commences :  and  during  the  winter  they 
remain  in  their  cabins,  enjoying  the  fruits  of 
their  labours,  and  partaking  in  the  sweets  of 
domestic  happiness.  Towards  the  end  of  winter, 
the  females  bring  forth  their  young,  to  the  num 
ber  of  three  or  four.  Soon  after,  the  male  retfres 
to  gather  fish,  and  vegetables,  as  the  spring 
opens;  but  the  mother  remains  at  home,  to 
nurse  and  rear  up  the  offspring,  until  they  are 
able  to  follow  their  dams.  The  male  occasion 
ally  returns,  but  not  to  tarry,  until  the  fall  of 
the  year.  But  if  any  injury  is  done  to  their 
public  works,  the  whole  society  are  soon  col 
lected,  and  join  all  their  forces  to  repair  the 
injury,  which  affects  their  commonwealth. 

"  Nothing  can  exceed  the  peace  and  regularity 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  229 

which  prevails  in  the  families,  and  through  the 
whole  commonwealth  of  these  animals.  No 
discord  or  contention  ever  appears  in  any  of 
their  families.  Every  beaver  knows  his  own 
apartment,  and  store  house  ;  and  there  is  no 
pilfering  or  robbing  from  one  another.  The 
male  and  the  female  are  mutually  attached  to, 
and  never  prove  unfriendly,  or  desert  one 
another.  Their  provisions  are  collected,  and 
expended,  without  any  dissension.  Each  knows 
its  own  family,  business,  and  property  ;  and  they 
are  never  seen  to  injure,  oppose,  or  interfere 
with  one  another.  The  same  order  and  tran 
quillity  prevail  through  the  commonwealth. 
Different  societies  of  beavers  never  make  war 
upon  one  another,  or  upon  any  other  animals. 
When  they  are  attacked  by  their  enemies,  they 
instantly  plunge  into  the  water,  to  escape  their 
pursuit :  and  when  they  cannot  escape,  they 
fall  an  easy  sacrifice. 

"  In  the  arts  necessary  for  their  safety,  the 
beavers  rise  to  great  eminence.  The  situation, 
direction,  form,  solidity,  beauty,  and  durability 
of  their  dams,  are  equal  to  anything  of  the  kind, 
which  has  ever  been  performed  by  man.  They 


230  LAKE   CHAMPLA1X. 

always  form  a  right  judgment,  winch  way  the 
tree  will  fall  ;  and  when  it  is  nearly  cut  down, 
they  appoint  one  of  their  number,  to  give  notice 
by  a  stroke  of  his  tail,  when  it  begins  to  fall. 
With  their  tails,  they  measure  the  lengths  of 
their  dams,  of  the  stakes  they  are  to  use,  of  a 
breach  that  is  made  in  their  works,  and  of  the 
length  of  the  timber  that  is  necessary  to  repair 
it.  When  an  enemy  approaches  their  dominions, 
the  beaver  which  makes  the  discovery,  by  strik 
ing  on  the  water  with  his  tail,  gives  notice  to 
the  whole  village  of  the  approaching  danger ; 
and  all  of  them  instantly  plunge  into  the 
water.  And  when  the  hunters  are  passing 
through  their  country,  some  of  their  number 
appear  to  be  sentinels,  to  give  notice  of  their 
approach. 

"  The  colour  of  the  beaver  is  different,  accord 
ing  to  the  different  climates,  which  they  in 
habit.  In  the  most  northern  parts,  they  are 
generally  black  ;  in  A^ermont  they  are  brown ; 
and  their  color  becomes  lighter  as  we  approach 
towards  the  south.  Their  fur  is  of  two  sorts, 
all  over  their  bodies.  That  which  is  longest,  is 
generally  about  an  inch  long,  but  on  the  back 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  231 

it  sometimes  extends  to  two  inches,  gradually 
shortening  towards  the  head  and  tail.  This 
part  is  coarse,  and  of  little  use.  The  other  part 
of  the  fur  consists  of  a  very  fine  and  thick 
down,  ahout  three*  quarters  of  an  inch  long,  so 
soft  that  it  feels  like  silk,  and  is  that  which  is 
used  in  manufactories.  Castor,  of  so  much  use 
in  medicine,  is  produced  from  the  body  of  the 
beaver.  It  is  contained  in  four  bags,  in  the 
lower  belly. 

"  The  largest  of  these  animals,  of  which  I 
have  any  certain  information,  weighed  sixty- 
three  pounds  and  an  half ;  but  it  is  only  in  a 
situation  remote  from,  and  undisturbed  by  the 
frequent  appearances  of  men,  that  they  attain 
their  greatest  magnitude,  or  their  highest  per 
fection  of  society.  The  beaver  has  deserted  all 
the  southern  parts  of  Vermont,  and  is  now  to 
be  found  only  in  the  most  northern  and  uncul 
tivated  parts  of  the  State." 

VERMONT    MARBLES. 

Among  all  the  ornamental  stones  used  in 
architecture,  either  ancient  or  modern,  not  one 
is  more  prized  by  wealth,  knowledge,  and  taste, 


LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

than  marble ;  and  in  no  place  on  the  globe  has 
nature  made  so  extensive  and  rich  a  deposit  as 
along  the  eastern  shore  of  Lake  Champlain. 
Here  she  has  placed  the  purest  white  and  the 
dunnest  black,  the  blue,  the  gray,  the  rose  and 
pink,  almost  side  'by  side.  Between  the  white 
and  black  over  forty  shades  are  grouped.  Every 
color  and  tint  required  for  interior  embellish 
ment,  from  the  delicate  shade  of  the  sea-pink 
shell  to  the  flaming  splendor  of  sapphire,  from 
snow  to  jet ;  the  neutral  grays,  the  cerulean 
blues,  the  mottled,  the  veined,  the  composite ; 
all  are  here.  What  unchiselled  vases,  what 
unhewn  statues,  what  unshaped  monuments, 
what  dormant  shafts  and  unraised  columns, 
what  mansions,  palaces,  and  sovereign  capitols, 
are  lying  unbuilded  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  awaiting  the  word  that  shall  shape  them 
to  fit  proportion,  and  set  them  to  be  admired  of 
all  and  stand  until  they  crumble,  in  the  light  of 
day! 

The  development  of  the  marble  industry  in 
Vermont  might  have  been  far  more  rapid  than 
it  has  been,  and,  vast  as  it  now  is,  much  more 
so,  had  it  not  been  for  that  miserable  habit 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  233 

which  has  ever  clung  to  Americans  of  estimat 
ing  a  foreign,  imported  product  of  more  value 
than  the  native  and  competing  one.  In  refer 
ence  to  the  introduction  and  use  of  American 
marble,  this  unpatriotic  and  wretched  habit  has 
exerted  a  most  injurious  influence.  When  Ver 
mont  marble  was  first  offered  in  competition 
with  the  foreign,  there  were  few  who  were  will 
ing  even  to  test  its  value  or  to  admit  that  it  had 
any,  especially  as  answering  the  requirements  of 
the  higher  grades  of  use  and  excellence. 

Its  purity  of  color  could  not  be  questioned,  for 
when  compared  with  imported  stones  the  gazer's 
eye  could  but  see  its  high  quality.  Nor  could 
one  deny  that  its  grain  was  fine  or  that  it 
wras  susceptible  of  the  most  beautiful  polish. 
Thus  from  one  position  after  another  were  its 
opponents  driven  until  it  was  finally  conceded 
that  comparative  ability  to  stand  exposure  to 
the  elements  must  decide  its  relative  rank. 
That  settled  it,  for  the  Italian  marbles  cannot  re 
sist  the  disintegrating  forces  of  our  climate  like 
the  native  ones  that  are  quarried  on  the  shores 
of  Lake  Cham  plain. 

Rutland  has  long  been  the  centre  of  this  vast 


234  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

industry,  so  vast  that  no  one  can  conceive  of  it 
unless  he  visits  the  quarries  and  sees  for  him 
self.  The  pioneer  firm  is  the  Sheldon  Marble 
Company,  of  West  Rutland.  It  began  opera 
tions  in  the  spring  of  1850,  and  from  a  small 
plant  has  grown  into  mammoth  proportions. 
Its  capacity  was  such  as  far  back  as  1875-76 
that  it  was  able  to  deliver  to  the  national  gov 
ernment  for  use  in  the  national  cemeteries  two 
hundred  and  forty  thousand  headstones  !  This 
one  contract  involved  the  shipment  of  six  thou 
sand  tons  of  sawn  marble  each  year.  And  this 
they  were  able  to  do  without  interfering  ivith 
their  regular  business. 

To  many  of  those  who  shall  visit  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  an  excursion  of  a  day  to  the  vast  marble 
quarries  of  West  Rutland,  Sutherland  Falls, 
and  Swanton,  would  be  the  most  instructive 
and  entertaining  they  might  take.  It  would 
interest  them  to  see  whence  are  to  come  the 
monuments,  the  statues,  and  the  palaces  of  the 
future,  as  grief,  art,  and  wealth  shall  call  them 
forth.  The  manufacture  of  marble,  by  which 
is  meant  the  preparation  of  the  original  block 
for  its  destined  purpose,  is  a  most  interesting 


HISTORICAL   REMINISCENCES.  285 

study.  To  see  with  one's  own  eyes  how  the 
"  angel  hidden  in  the  stone  "  is  summoned  forth 
and  made  to  stand  before  the  gazer  in  all  its 
celestial  beauty  is  an  object  lesson  of  the  rarest 
sort.  If  you  have  a  day  to  spare,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  visit  the  marble  quarries  of  these 
noted  localities. 


236  LAKE   CHAMPLAINT. 


AUTHOR'S    NOTE. 


ALTHOUGH  it  is  not  generally  known,  never 
theless  it  is  held  bv  those  who  have  knowledge 

"  O 

of  the  matter,  that  no  body  of  water  in  the 
country  affords  better  sport  for  anglers  than 
Lake  Champlain.  That  the  subject  might  be 
intelligently  and  attractively  treated,  we  enlisted 
the  co-operation  of  Mr.  A.  Nelson  Cheney  of 
Glens  Falls,  N.Y.,  whose  volume  on  "  Fishing 
with  the  Fly/'  and  many  contributions  to  the 
press,  have  given  him  a  deserved  reputation  in 
angling  matters  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and 
caused  him  to  be  honored  as  an  authority  on  all 
subjects  connected  with  the  fish  and  fishing  of 
America.  His  essay,  at  our  request,  is  written 
from  the  standpoint  of  personal  knowledge  and 
experience,  and  will  be  read  with  delight  by  all 
who  are  lovers  of  rod  and  reel.  May  it  not  be 
hoped  that  some  day,  not  remote,  he  will  favor 
the  country  with  a  volume  on  fish  and  fishing 
on  Lake  Champlain  ?  It  is  an  ample  theme  for 
a  pen  like  his,  and  we  know  no  other  writer  in 
the  country  who  could  do  the  work  as  he  could 
do  it. 


GAME  FISH  AND  FISHING.  237 


THE   GAME    FISH   AND  FISHING  OF  LAKE 
CHAMPLAIN. 

By  A.   NELSON    CHENEY. 


THE  history,  the  romance,  and  the  legends  of 
Lake  Champlain  have  met  with  greater  or  less 
recognition  at  the  hands  of  those  who  have 
striven  to  make  the  fair  fame  of  the  lake 
known  to  the  world,  but  to  the  angler  familiar 
with  its  waters  it  is  often  surprising  that  its 
fish  and  its  fishing  have  been  passed  over  with 
scant  courtesy.  Particularly  is  this  the  case 
when  it  is  considered  that  the  lake  which  bears 
the  name  of  Samuel  Champlain  affords  some  of 
the  very  best  angling  with  rod  and  line  that  is 
to  be  found  in  all  this  broad  land,  remarkable 
as  it  is  for  prolificness  of  species  and  prodigality 
in  numbers  of  what  are  known  to  the  sports 
men  as  game  fish.  True  it  is,  lamentably  true, 
that  the  kingly  salmon  no  longer  finds  its  way 
from  the  sea  through  the  St.  Lawrence  and 


238  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

Richelieu  rivers  to  the  streams  flowing  into  the 
lake  on  either  side ;  the  brook-trout,  fontinalis, 

—  the  prince  of  the  fountains,  —  if  it  ever  was 
known  in  the  lake,  has  taken  its  departure  with 
the  French  name,  Imcosia,  applied  to  the  water ; 
the  lake-trout,  that  the  Indians  called  Namay- 
cush,  has  also  disappeared  as   effectively  as  the 
Iroquois  name  of  the  lake,  Caniaderi   Guaninte 

—  "  the   lake  that  is  the  gate  of  the  country"  ; 
but  with  the  departure  of  the  salmonidce  —  fish 
of  royal  lineage  —  the  gate  was  left  ajar  that 
strangers  might  enter  the  water  of  promise,  and 
there  remained  behind  and  took  deep  root  other 
fish  less  aristocratic,  but  sweet  of    flesh,  game 
on  the  hook,  fruitful  of  increase,  strong  to  re 
sist   murder,    outrage,  and    untimely  death    by 
net.    spear,    and    torch    and    other    engines    of 
destruction  that  have  made  the  salmon  family 
but  a  memory.      To-day  these   hardy,  fighting, 
gamy  fish  abound  in  the  lake,  thrive  and  mul 
tiply,  giving  pleasure  and  health  to  thousands 
who  seek  their  capture ;  and  who  shall  say  it  is 
not  the  survival  of  the  fittest  ? 

Approaching    the    lake    from    the    south,   its 
appearance  is  not  inviting.     The  marshy  shores 


GAME   FISH   AND   FISHING.  239 

and  the  water,  thick  and  discolored  as  it  is  by 
washing  against  banks  of  clay  that  hold  it  in 
check,  are  not  pleasing  to  one  who  has  angled 
in  limpid  waters  framed  in  pebbly  shores  and 
backed  by  the  green  of  forests ;  so  many  an 
angler  has  condemned  the  lake  and  turned  back 
at  the  sight  of  its  "  tail." 

It  is  strange,  but  a  fact,  that  people  living 
within  fifty  miles  of  Lake  Champlain  speak  of 
its  waters  as  muddy.  They  do  not  know  it ; 
and  it  shall  be  our  pleasure  to  introduce  them, 
and  we  hope  others,  to  some  of  the  beauties  and 
attractions  of  this  grand  sheet  of  water  —  a 
Mecca  for  anglers. 

The  fish  that  now  holds  first  place  in  the 
waters  of  the  lake,  and  in  the  esteem  of  the 
angler  as  a  rod  fish,  is  the  small-mouth  black 
bass.  Miwopterus  dolomieu.  The  large-mouth 
black  bass,  or  Oswego  bass,  Micropterus  sal- 
moides,  is  also  found  here,  but  it  inhabits  reedy, 
marshy  bays  and  creeks,  and  is  not  sought  by 
the  angler,  so  that  hereafter  by  black  bass  we 
shall  mean  the  small-mouth.  This  fish  loves 
the  rocks,  gravel,  sand,  and  clear  water,  and  in 
the  lake  it  finds  such  an  abundance  of  suitable 


240  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

food  that,  fishing  for  black  bass  from  Maine  to 
Michigan  and  from  Canada  to  Virginia,  we  have 
not  found  its  superior,  and  scarcely  its  equal, 
for  the  table;  and  its  game  qualities  are  not 
exceeded  by  the  black  bass  of  any  other  waters. 
A  bass  hooked  while  the  writer  was  fishing  off 
^Yood's  Island,  near  St.  Albans  Bay,  jumped 
clear  of  the  water  seven  times  before  it  was 
brought  to  the  landing-net.  There  are  hun 
dreds  of  acres  of  shoals  in  the  lake,  affording 
the  very  best  possible  breeding-grounds  for  the 
bass,  and,  with  anything  like  moderation  in 
fishing  and  a  due  regard  for  the  close  season, 
its  black-bass  fishing  should  always  be  of  the 
best.  The  black  bass  is  the  game  fish  of 
the  people,  because  its  haunts  are  accessible  in 
waters  of  civilization,  waters  ploughed  by  crafts 
of  commerce  as  well  as  of  pleasure,  and  it  is 
found  at  its  best  in  broad  lakes  and  mighty 
rivers,  where  the  trout  of  mountain  streams 
and  secluded  forest  lakes  would  sicken  and  die, 
harried  by  revolving  propellers  and  turning 
paddle-wheels.  Being  a  spring-spawning  fish, 
the  eggs  of  the  black  bass  hatch  quickly,  and  as 
the  spawning-beds  and  fry,  when  hatched,  are 


GAMP:  FISH  AND  FISIIIXG.  241 

guarded  by  the  parent  fish,  the  young  black 
bass  are  not  subjected  to  casualties  that  threaten 
the  extermination  of  other  species  of  game 
fish.  Taking  fly  or  bait  boldly  ;  fighting  des 
perately  when  hooked ;  leaping  from  the  water 
like  the  salmon  and  the  tarpon ;  toothsome 
when  prepared  for  the  table.  Nature  evidently 
intended  the  black  bass  to  be,  as  it  is  now  gen 
erally  accepted,  the  universal  game  fish  of  the 
United  States  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

At  the  lower  or  northern  end  of  the  lake, 
east  of  the  islands  North  and  South  Hero,  or 
Grand  Isle,  as  the  southernmost  of  the  Hero 
Islands  is  called  ;  south  of  McQuam  Bay  and 
north  of  the  sandbar  bridge,  is  a  portion  of  the 
lake,  about  twenty-one  miles  long  north  and 
south  and  five  miles  wide,  which  is  very  like  a 
lake  of  itself,  as  it  has  but  two  comparatively 
narrow  openings,  the  Gut  and  Alburgh  Passage, 
into  the  main  lake,  to  which  anglers  have  given 
the  title  Great  Back  Bay. 

This .  great  bay  is  referred  to  with  much 
justice  as  the  home  of  the  black  bass.  Within 
its  confines  are  a  dozen  islands,  and  bars,  shoals, 
or  reefs  which  cannot  be  numbered.  On  the 


242  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

nortli  is  Missisquoi  Bay,  which  is  evidently 
the  winter  resort  for  many  of  the  fishes  of  the 
lake,  because  there  they  find  water  of  a  higher 
temperature  than  in  the  lake  itse1^.  This  bay 
is  not  only  a  winter  resort  and  feeding-ground 
for  game  fishes,  but  it  is  a  breeding-ground  for 
fish  food.  The  water  of  Back  Bay  is  as  clear 
almost  as  the  water  of  famed  Lake  George,  and 
has  a  depth  of  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet, 
according  to  the  government  charts,  although 
the  average  depth  is  perhaps  about  fifty  feet, 
while  there  are  acres  of  shoals  and  bars  with 
water  from  five  to  twenty  feet  deep  over  them. 
Mt.  Mansfield  and  Camel's  Hump  look  down 
on  the  bay  from  the  Vermont  side,  and  Mt. 
Marcy,  White  Face,  and  other  Adirondack 
mountains  look  down  from  the  New  York  side, 
so  that  altogether  there  is  a  vastness  about  the 
scene  which  is  impressive.  The  islands  and 
the  shores  of  the  Back  Bay  furnish  fine  camping 
sites,  and  there  are  hotel  accommodations  for 
those  who  object  to  an  outing  under  canvas. 
The  fish  laws  of  Vermont,  which  obtain  on  the 
waters  of  Back  Bay,  make  the  legal  season  for 
black-bass  fishing  from  June  1  to  February  1; 


GAME   FISH   AND   FISHING.  243 

but  no  bass  may  be  captured  and  retained  less 
than  ten  inches  in  length. 

June  is  the  season  for  fly-fishing,  for  at  that 
time  the  bass  are  on  the  shores  and  in  shallow 
water ;  but  later  in  the  season  if  one  casts  a  fly 
at  nightfall  or  early  in  the  morning  on  the 
shallow  water  over  sandbars  and  shoals,  where 
the  bass  come  to  feed,  reasonable  success  may 
result.  For  bait-fishing  with  minnows,  grass 
hoppers,  crickets,  frogs  or  crawfish,  a  rocky  or 
pebbly  shoal  is  selected,  where  the  water  is  from 
ten  to  twenty  feet  deep,  and  there  the  boat  is 
anchored.  The  bass  of  Lake  Champlain  are 
caught  in  remarkably  shallow  water,  and  only 
in  the  month  of  August  is  it  necessary  to  resort 
to  the  greater  depth  of  water  mentioned.  At  all 
times  bass  may  be  caught  in  very  shallow  water 
by  fishing  on  the  bars  and  shoals  before  day 
light  in  the  morning  and  after  dark  at  night. 
This  is  not  as  pleasant  for  the  angler  as  good 
daylight,  but  it  secures  large  fish.  A  leaf  from 
my  fishing  journal  will  give  a  case  in  point. 
When  first  I  fished  the  waters  of  Back  Bay, 
I  found  it  customary  with  the  anglers  as 
sembled  at  a  favorite  resort  on  the  shore  to  eat 


244  LAKE    CIIAMPLAIX. 

a  leisure!}7  breakfast  and  get  on  the  water  about 
half-past  seven  or  eight  o'clock.  The  bay  is  a 
place  of  magnificent  distances,  as  it  requires  a 
pull  of  three  or  four  miles  for  the  boatman  to 
reach  the  fishing  points  most  in  favor,  so  that  an 
hour  and  a  half  more  was  required  before  the 
bait  was  offered  to  the  fish.  This  was  contrary 
to  all  teachings  which  point  to  success  in 
angling,  or  in  other  things,  and,  although  the 
landlord  informed  me  that  I  was  violating 

o 

tradition,  and  the  boatman  told  me  a  bass  never 
had  been  taken  in  the  lake  at  such  a  heathenish 
hour,  I  ordered  my  boat  to  be  ready  an  hour 
before  daybreak  on  a  certain  morning.  I  do 
not  think  I  realized  before  how  much  "  sand  " 
it  required  to  fly  in  the  face  of  tradition,  upset 
custom,  and  do  in  Rome  what  the  Romans 
said,  with  a  satisfied  smile  of  superiority,  would 
bring  me  rich,  dewy,  rosy  experience,  but  no 
fish.  When  I  came  in  that  morning,  only  a 
little  late  for  the  regular  breakfast,  there  must 
have  been  something  in  the  appearance  of  the 
string  of  black  bass  that  my  boatman  placed 
with  some  pride  on  the  grass  before  the  hotel 
door,  either  the  number  of  them  or  their  size, 


GAME   FISH    AXD    FISHING.  245 

that  caused  the  Romans  to  think  that  while 
the  very  early  morning  air  was  certainly  not 
good  to  prolong  the  life  of  a  big  black  bass,  it 
might  be  of  benefit  to  the  angler.  This  is 
merely  conjecture ;  but  a  few  mornings  later, 
when  my  boatman,  Warren  Greene,  called  me 
at  three  o'clock  A.  M.,  he  whispered  through  the 
half-open  door :  "  Joe  Armstrong  got  up  when 
I  did,  and  it  looks  as  though  his  man  was  going 
a-fishing." 

Before  I  finished  dressing  and  made  a  cup  of 
coffee  over  a  spirit-lamp.  Warren  was  again  at 
my  door  to  say,  "  Two  boats  have  started 
already,  and  two  other  guides  are  up  and  get 
ting  their  boats  ready."  East  of  Wood's 
Island  is  a  vast  sand  shoal,  cone-shaped,  with 
the  island  for  its  base,  and  the  apex  in  the 
direction  of  the  rising  sun.  At  the  point  of  the 
"  bar,"  as  the  shoal  is  called,  the  water  drops 
suddenly  to  about  fifteen  feet  in  depth,  as  it 
likewise  does  on  the  north  side,  but  on  the  bar 
itself  the  water  is  scarcely  more  than  six  feet 
deep.  Just  at  the  point  of  the  bar  the  fishing 
is  considered  best,  particularly  if  there  is  a  cur 
rent.  This  current  is  made  by  the  wind  blow- 


246  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIX. 

ing  several  days  from  north  or  south  and  piling 
up  the  water  in  the  opposite  end  of  the  bay, 
when  it  sets  back  to  its  normal  condition, 
producing  a  decided  flow  like  a  river.  The 
bass  are  on  the  watch  for  any  food  that  may 
drift  along  past  the  point,  and  to  strike  them 
at  such  a  time  means  a  big  bag  of  line  fish. 
The  point  of  the  bar  was  supposed  to  be  fully 
ripe  for  fishing  the  morning  that  Warren  was 
impatient  because  I  waited  for  my  cup  of  coffee. 
The  time  was  the  10th  of  August,  and  when  we 
put  out  from  the  boat-house  it  was  in  the  dark 
ness  which  precedes  the  dawn ;  and  Warren 
observed  that  we  would  reach  the  bar  long 
before  we  could  see  the  shore  landmarks  by 
which  to  locate  the  point;  but  he  thought  he 
could  "hit  it  pretty  close  in  the  dark."  As  we 
neared  the  bar  two  boats  could  be  seen  dimly, 
anchored  about  where  we  judged  the  point 
should  be  ;  but  Warren  whispered  that  he  did 
not  think  either  boat  was  over  just  the  right 
spot,  and  I  hastily  baited  my  hook  with  a  grass 
hopper,  as  Warren  peered  here  and  there  ahead 
of  the  boat,  hoping  to  see  something  to  guide 
him  to  the  location  we  were  seeking.  I  cast  my 


GAME   FISH   AXI)   FISIIIXG.  247 

'hopper  on  the  water,  dragging  it  behind  the 
boat,  when  suddenly  it  was  snapped  up  by  a 
hungry  bass.  And  I  turned  to  Warren  and 
told  him  to  drop  anchor  quickly  and  let  the 
boat  swing  back  with  the  current  about  fifteen 
feet.  There  was  a  splash  as  the  anchor  went 
down  -  at  the  bow,  and  another  as  the  bass 
jumped  at  the  stern,  and  the  boat  dropped  back 
the  length  of  the  slack-rope  as  Warren  stepped 
toward  me  with  the  landing-net.  The  bass  was 
now  in.  now  out  of  the  water,  but  neither  of  us 
could  see  the  fish  when  it  was  out  any  more 
than  when  it  was  in,  and  I  finally  reeled  it  to 
the  boat,  and  the  net  was  placed  under  it  by  an 
exercise  of  faith — a  three  and  one-half  pound 
fish,  just  the  fighting  size.  The  current  was 
strong  and  the  bass  greedy,  for  another  'hopper 
on  the  hook  was  taken  as  quickly  as  the  first, 
and  the  bass  as  quickly  lost  from  not  being  well 
hooked.  There  was  no  sound  of  revelry  from 
either -of  the  other  boats  as  I  hooked  the  third 
bass,  which  came  to  the  net  after  a  struggle, 
and  I  thought  we  might  wait  for  more  light, 
which  shortly  came  stealing  up  over  the  Green 
Mountains,  faintly,  but  sufficient  to  show  the 


248  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

bass  when  hooked  and  led  to  the  net.  Before 
the  sun  fairly  appeared  above  the  hills,  I  noticed 
the  light  color  of  the  bass,  which  was  evidence 
that  the  fish  had  been  on  the  white  sand  all 
night  (a  bass  will  quickly  take  on  the  general 
color  of  the  bottom  on  which  it  rests),  and  that 
we  were  fishing  directly  over  the  bar.  This  I 
remarked  to  Warren,  and  he  glanced  around, 
chuckled  quietly,  shut  one  eye  knowingly, 
jerked  his  head  over  his  left  shoulder,  and 
said.  — 

"  Do  you  see  the  big  pine  square  over  the 
north  gable  of  the  barn  on  the  island  and  the 
notch  in  the  hill  in  line  with  the  point  on 
Potter  Island?"  Sure  enough  !  The  boat  was 
anchored  as  fairly  over  the  point  of  the  bar  as 
Warren  could  have  anchored  it  at  high  noon 
with  the  sun  shining  and  all  the  landmarks 
located  with  a  theodolite.  The  other  boats 
were  taking  an  occasional  bass,  but  they  had 
missed  the  point  and  they  knew  it  only  too 
well.  A  bass  that  proved  to  weigh  four  and  a 
quarter  pounds  when  it  was  landed,  took  my 
bait,  and,  as  he  jumped  from  the  water  and 
showed  his  dark  green  sides  in  the  sunlight,  I 


GAME   FISH   AXD   FISHIXG.  249 

said,  "  Here  is  a  bass  tliat  has  just  come  on  to 
the  bar  from  the  grass  for  its  breakfast,  and 
now  we  shall  have  to  wait  for  such  as  come 
straggling  along  to  feed  ;  we  have  cleaned  the 
bar  of  such  bass  as  have  been  here  all  night." 
This  proved  true,  and  after  waiting  for  a  time 
we  moved  about  one  hundred  yards  to  a  patch 
of  grass  bottom  with  an  occasional  water-weed 
growing  near  to  the  surface.  Casting  the 
baited  hook  over,  there  was  no  response  on  the 
part  of  fish  of  any  kind,  for  this  is  famous  yel 
low-perch  ground,  and  I  concluded  there  was  a 
big  bass  "there  or  thereabouts"  which  held  the 
perch  in  reserve  and  made  them  backward 
about  coming  forward.  The  diagnosis  was 
correct,  for  there  was  a  bite,  and  the  next 
moment  a  "  barn-door  "  (any  one  who  fishes  in 
Lake  Champlain  will  soon  learn  that  a  "  barn 
door  "  is  a  black  bass  of  the  largest  calibre) 
was  shaking  its  head  in  the  air  with  the  hook 
fast  in  its  jaw.  As  Warren  put  the  net  under 
the  fish  and  brought  it  into  the  boat,  he  said  it 
was  a  ".barn-door,"  sure  enough;  and  as  he 
hooked  the  scales  through  its  mouth  and  they 
marked  full  five  pounds,  he  added,  "  That's  'old 


250  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

glory,'  the  biggest  bass  taken  in  the  bay  this 
year."  When  we  went  in,  we  had  twenty-six 
black  bass,  which  weighed  fifty-six  pounds  ten 
ounces,  and  eighteen  of  them  weighed  just  ten 
pounds  less,  or  forty-six  pounds  ten  ounces. 

North  of  Diadama  Island  is  another  shoal,  of 
pebbles  instead  of  sand,  and  here  there  is  ex 
cellent  bass-fishing,  particularly  at  night  or 
morning.  West  of  Diadama  is  a  clump  of  big 
rocks,  and  west  of  Diadama  shoal  is  another, 
where  as  good  fishing  may  be  found  as  any  one 
could  wish.  Gull  Rock  and  Long  Reef,  and  the 
middle  reef  between  Gull  Rock  and  the  north 
end  of  Butler's  Island,  and  in  the  cove  at  the 
south  of  Butler's  Island,  is  good  fishing.  Pop 
Squash  furnishes  fine  fishing  also,  but  one 
should  have  a  boatman  to  show  him  a  score 
of  good  places  where  large  bass  and  plenty  of 
them  may  be  taken. 

The  yellow  perch  from  this  pure,  clear  water 
make  an  excellent  pan  fish ;  they  are  really 
sweeter  than  the  bass  (if  I  may  be  forgiven  the 
heresy),  and  they  can  be  taken  in  large  numbers 
wherever  there  is  grass  bottom  or  weeds.  It  is 
the  custom  to  despise  the  yellow  perch  where 


GAME   FISH   AXD   FISHIXG.  251 

the  black-bass  fishing  is  so  good  as  at  Back  Bay, 
but,  feeling  hungry  for  perch  one  day,  I  went 
with  Warren  to  the  grass  where  the  five-pound 
bass  was  taken,  and  caught  seventy-six  large 
perch,  and,  as  the  Indian  said  of  his  venison 
killed  out  of  season,  "  call  it  bulldog  or  moun 
tain  sheep,  it  is  good  to  eat." 

A  fish  that  is  esteemed  by  some  more  highly 
for  the  table  than  the  black  bass  is  the  pike- 
perch,  or  wall-eyed  pike,  Stizostedium  vitreum. 
The  pike-perch  has  a  cousin,  8.  Canadense, 
popularly  known  as  Sauger,  or  Sandpike,  more 
beautiful  in  coloring  than  the  pike-perch,  but 
smaller,  as  it  rarely  grows  to  exceed  fifteen 
inches,  while  the  pike-perch  grows  to  ten 
pounds  and  upward.  Both  of  these  fish  are 
found  in  Lake  Champlam,  and  the  legal  season 
for  catching  them  is  the  same  as  that  of  the 
black  bass.  Pike-perch  are  frequently  taken 
while  fishing  for  black  bass,  but  to  make  a 
business  of  catching  them  the  best  time  is  June 
and  late -in  the  fall.  They  are  caught  by  still- 
fishing  with  live  minnows.  Even  in  June  and 
late  autumn,  the  fishing  for  pike-perch  is  not  as 
srood  as  it  is  through  the  ice  in  winter,  for  they 


252  LAKE    CHAMPLATX. 

go  on  the  sandbars  in  great  numbers  three 
months  before  the  spawning  season,  which  is  in 
March  and  April,  and  there  remain  until  they 
spawn  and  disperse.  They  are  very  prolific, 
casting  two  or  three  hundred  thousand  eggs, 
and  they  spawn  when  they  reach  a  pound  in 
weight.  Like  all  spring-spawning  fish,  except 
the  black  bass,  their  eggs  furnish  food  for  other 
predaceous  fishes.  The  black  bass  is  an  ex 
ception  because,  as  already  stated,  they  guard 
their  spawning-beds ;  the  bullhead  and  sunfish 
being  the  only  other  fish  that  exercise  this  care 
over  eggs  and  young.  A  fish  that  can  scarcely 
be  called  a  game  fish,  yet  is  taken  occasionally 
on  the  hook  in  Lake  Champlain,  strange  as  the 
statement  may  appear,  is  the  lake  shad,  so- 
called,  but  which  really  is  the  whitefish  of  the 
great  lakes,  Coregonus  clupeiformis.  This  fish 
is  protected  by  the  laws  of  Vermont  from 
November  1  to  November  15,  and  the  law  is 
about  as  effective  as  that  which  protects  the 
black  bass,  for  the  whitefish  spawns  as  late  as 
the  first  week  in  December,  the  greater  number 
spawning  from  the  15th  of  November  to  the 
1st  of  December,  and  the  black  bass  spawns 


GAME   FISH   AND   FISHING.  253 

during  nearly  the  entire  month  of  June.  The 
laws  mean  well,  but  do  not  actually  cover  what 
they  are  intended  to  cover,  viz.,  the  breeding- 
season.  It  is  not  so  unusual  for  whitefish  to 
take  a  baited  hook  as  it  might  be  supposed. 
They  are  caught  in  winter  through  the  ice  in 
one  or  more  of  the  Adirondack  lakes,  in  such 
numbers  as  to  make  it  worth  the  while  fishing 
for  them,  and  one  angler  has  taken  a  number  in 
Back  Bay  in  summer,  and  he  told  me  that  with 
their  delicate  mouths  they  were  not  an  insignifi 
cant  fish  on  the  rod  ;  and  certainly  there  is  no 
more  delicately  delicious  fish  on  the  table  than 
a  whitefish  fresh  from  the  water.  The  masca- 
longe,  Esox  ncibilior,  the  nobler  pike,  is  some 
times  taken  in  Lake  Champlain,  and  if  the  New 
York  Fish  Commission  is  successful  in  culti 
vating  the  fish  artificially  at  Chautauqua  Lake, 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  same  work  may  be 
taken  up  at  Lake  Champlain,  and  the  water 
made  to  teem  with  this  great  game  fish.  There 
are  parts  of  the  lake  admirably  suited  to  this 
fish,  and  it  is  well  worth  the  experiment  to 
make  it  common  in  the  water. 

The    pike,    Esox    lucius,    commonly    called 


254  LAKE   CIIAMPLA1N. 

pickerel,  also  called  fresh-water  shark,  slimy 
snake,  and  other  choice  names,  is  omnipresent 
in  Lake  Champlain.  It  bobs  up  when  least 
expected,  and  a  hook  baited  with  a  live  minnow 
is  never  safe  from  its  long  jaws.  A  gentleman 
casting  a  fly  on  Diadama  bar  for  black  bass 
announced  to  a  friend  who  was  with  him,  that 
there  was  a  supreme  satisfaction  in  fly-fishing 
for  bass,  for  even  if  the  bass  did  not  rise  to  the 
fly  the  pickerel  would  not,  and  if  there  was 
any  particular  fish  that  he  cordially  disliked 
it  was  a  pickerel.  The  first  fish  that  he  hooked 
was  a  pickerel  that  tore  his  fly  in  tatters. 
While  the  pickerel  is  generally  regarded  with 
disfavor  by  those  who  seek  the  black  bass,  it 
must  be  confessed  that  a  pickerel  from  clear, 
cold  water  in  the  autumn,  if  properly  dressed, 
by  some  other  fellow,  makes  good  eating  ;  but 
these  conditions  do  not  exist  usually  as  do  those 
other  conditions  of  warm,  thick  water,  and  the 
odor  of  wrater  weeds  and  rank  vegetation  and 
general  sliminess  that  hangs  about  the  fish.  A 
fish  that  in  any  other  country  than  America 
would  be  considered  a  sporting  fish  is  the  chub 
or  fall  fish,  Semotilus  luUaris.  It  is  a  beautiful 


GAME   FISH   AND  FISHING.  255 

silvery  fish,  fights  well  on  the  hook,  takes  fly 
and  bait,  and  it  is  found  in  schools  in  Lake 
Champlain,  but  to  the  bass-fisher  it  is  a  nui 
sance.  When  hooked,  the  fall  fish  acts  not 
unlike  the  brook  trout,  and  Professor  Goode 
says  that  in  Massachusetts  it  is  called  the 
'•  cousin  trout,"  because  of  its  trout-like  habits. 
Yet  this  fish  is  caught  only  to  be  thrown  away. 

Another  fish  found  in  the  lake  must  have  a 
short  notice,  although  it  is  anything  but  a  game 
fish.  This  fish  is  called  the  sheeps-head,  but  it 
is  the  fresh-water  drum,  Haploidonotus  cjrun- 
niens,  and  is  as  worthless  for  any  purpose  as 
any  fish  that  I  know.  If  it  is  distinguished  for 
anything  it  is  for  its  ear-bones,  which  are  called 
"lucky-bones."  These  bones,  two  in  each  fish, 
are  about  the  size  of  a  nickel  and  of  the  texture 
of  ivory,  but  pearly  white;  and  have  plainly 
marked  on  the  surface  a  letter  L,  which  cer 
tainly  stands  for  lucky-bone.  They  may  possi 
bly  be  lucky,  but  they  do  not  work  in  pairs. 

I  had  been  fishing  in  Back  Bay  for  a  week 
with  two  Texas  friends,  and  during  the  last 
day's  fishing  a  "  sheeps-head"  was  taken  in  one 
of  the  boats,  and  the  boatman  took  out  the 


256  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

lucky-bones  from  the  head  of  the  fish  and  pre 
sented  one  to  one  of  the  Texans  and  the  other 
to  the  writer,  "  for  luck."  We  gibed  the  third 
member  of  our  party,  the  major,  because  he  had 
no  visible,  tangible,  material  evidence  of  luck 
in  his  whole  outfit,  but  promised  he  should 
share  in  our  dividends  —  and  he  did.  He  de 
clared  that  he  did  not  desire  to  have  any 
"  mullet-head  luck;"  and  that  the  letter  L  in 
our  cases  stood  for  lunatics.  The  next  morning, 
we  started  from  St.  Albans  to  go  through  Lakes 
Champlain  and  George,  and  at  Burlington 
reached  the  steamboat  dock  in  time  to  get  a 
square  view  of  the  stern  of  the  Vermont  steam 
ing  away  to  Ticonderoga,  and  the  major  growled 
something  about  "  luck,"  which  did  not  begin 
with  (j.  We  were  told  that  by  crossing  the 
lake  to  Westport  on  another  steamer,  we  could 
catch  the  Montreal  train,  which  would  overtake 
the  boat,  and  we  joyfully  told  the  major  that 
the  lucky-bones  would  work  all  right  when  we 
had  mastered  the  combination. 

Our  steamer  reached  the  Westport  dock 
seventeen  minutes  after  the  train  had  steamed 
away  southward ;  and  there  the  major  offered 


GAME   FISH  AXD   FISHING.  257 

to  buy  the  lucky-bones,  and  the  negotiations 
might  have  ended  in  a  riot  if  the. major  had  not 
happened  to  see  a  man  on  the  dock  with  a  fine 
string  of  black  bass,  which  he  went  to  ask 
about,  and  found  they  were  caught  from  the 
dock. 

We  ordered  a  carriage  to  take  us  to  Au 
Sable  Chasm,  and  while  waiting  for  it,  the 
owner  of  one  lucky -bone  bantered  the  owner  of 
the  other  to  run  a  foot-race,  with  the  major  for 
finish  judge,  for  a  cool,  well-favored,  robust, 
carefully  selected  bottle  of  the  juice  of  the 
grape,  extra  dry.  The  race  was  run,  and  the 
major  decided  it  a  dead  heat.  Three  times  he 
ordered  it  run  over,  because  it  was  a  dead  heat, 
although  there  were  several  yards  between  the 
runners  at  the  finish,  before  we  discovered  that 
he  was  trying  to  kill  the  contestants.  When 
we  reached  the  hotel  we  found  we  had  time  to 
go  through  the  chasm  before  dinner,  and  started 
at  once.  At  the  Grand  Flume  we  found  a  boat 
but  no  boatman,  and  the  major  insisted  that 
"this  is  luck;  but  such  luck!"  We  reached 
the  outlet  without  "going  up  the  flume,"  but 
there  was  no  wagon  to  take  us  to  the  hotel. 


258  LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 

The  major  glared,  but  speech  failed  him,  and 
when  finally  we  did  get  to  the  hotel,  late  for  a 
hot  dinner  but  just  in  time  for  a  cold  one,  the 
storm-cloud  burst  with  a  clatter  that  would 
have  made  the  dogs  of  war  stick  their  tails 
between  their  hinder  legs,  and  strike  out  for 
the  brush.  The  riot  act  read  something  after 
this  style :  "  This  is  Saturday,  and  our  only 
chance  to  get  to  our  families  is  the  midnight  ex 
press  from  Montreal,  provided  wre  can  drive  to 
the  depot  without  the  horses  running  away, 
which  I  doubt.  On  the  train  are  men,  women, 
and  children  that  never  harmed  either  one  of 
you,  never  heard  of  you  and  never  wish  to, 
and  they  will  be  sleeping  peacefully,  innocently, 
never  dreaming  that  each  of  you  has  a  lucky- 
bone  in  his  pocket,  and  it  is  a  bad  night  for 
the  train  to  jump  the  track.  You  start  to-night, 
and  I  shall  wait  until  Monday,  for  I  cannot 
trust  myself  on  a  railway  train  with  those  lucky- 
bones.  You  have  tried  them  on  water  and  on 
land,  and  they  do  not  work ;  neither  of  you  can 
fly,  to  try  them  in  the  air ;  sell  them  to  me,  and 
I  will  send  them  to  a  man  who  stole  a  pail  of 
bait-fish  from  me  at  Lake  George,  and  they  will 


GAME  FISH  AND   FISHING.  259 

ruin  his  fishing  forever."  We  knew  the  man, 
and  sold  out  our  luck.  This  experience  is  given 
as  a  warning,  and  it  may  be  added  that  directly 
after  the  bait-appropriator  received  the  lucky- 
bones  he  lost  the  biggest  fish  that  ever  he 
hooked. 

Something  like  fifteen  years  ago  I  was  in 
Port  Henry  in  March  or  April,  and  the  hotel- 
keeper  where  I  dined  regretted  that  he  was 
unable  to  give  me  some  "  ice-fish "  for  my 
dinner.  It  was  to  me  a  new  fish,  and  I  was  then 
informed  that  they  were  comparatively  new  to 
Lake  Champlain,  but  were  caught  through  the 
ice  in  great  quantities  at  that  season.  A  de 
scription  of  the  fish  made  me  think  that  they 
were  the  smelt,  Osmerus  mordax,  and  when,  later, 
samples  were  sent  to  me,  that  is  what  they 
proved  to  be.  They  were  then  caught  near 
Port  Henry  and  at  Westport.  I  have  since 
learned  of  their  being  taken  opposite  Burling 
ton  and  at  Plattsburg.  At  one  point  they  were 
called  •  frost-fish,  but  where  that  was  I  do  not 
recall.  If  they  are  taken  in  one  part  of  the 
lake  they  should  be  found  in  other  parts,  and 
I  presume  they  are.  They  furnish  fishing  at  a 


260  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

season  when  nothing  better  offers,  and  every 
one  knows  that  they  are  good  when  fried  in  fat 
like  a  cruller  and  served  with  sauce  tar  tare. 
During  the  coming  spring  the  United  States 
Fish  Commission  will  furnish  a  million  lake- 
trout  fry  to  be  planted  in  Lake  Champlain,  and 
there  seems  no  good  reason  why  this  fine  fish 
should  not  thrive  therein  and  furnish  excellent 
angling  and  a  new  and  choice  food  fish.  Troll 
ing  for  lake  trout  is  not  fly-fishing,  but  when  a 
fifteen-pound  NamaycusTi  is  hooked  at  the  sur 
face  on  a  light  rod  it  is  fishing  "  good  enough 
for  the  Jones  family."  A  sentiment  which 
upholds  the  fish  laws  as  just  and  proper  is 
rapidly  growing  with  all  people.  Canadian 
authorities  are  working  in  harmony  with  the 
Vermont  Fish  Commission  to  stop  the  netting  of 
fish  in  Missisquoi  Bay,  that  vast  breeding  and 
feeding  ground,  and  the  prospect  for  good  and 
varied  fishing  in  Lake  Champlain  was  never 
better  since  the  salmon  disappeared  than  to-day. 
Kecalling  the  pleasures  we  have  enjoyed,  most 
heartily  do  we  commend  the  splendid  rod-fish 
ing  to  be  found  in  Lake  Champlain  to  brother 
anglers.  To  the  fly-fisher  we  make  no  sugges- 


GAME   FISH   AND   FISHIXG.  261 

tion  as  to  lures,  for  his  fly-book  will  contain, 
somewhere  between  its  covers,  just  the  combina 
tion  of  feathers,  silk,  mohair,  and  tinsel,  when 
deftly  cast,  to  draw  to  the  landing-net  black 
bass  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting.  To  the  bait- 
fisher  we  will  say  that  on  the  shores  of  the  lake 
and  in  the  small  streams  thereof,  there  may  be 
found  in  abundance  the  shiniest  minnows  for 
early  fishing,  the  biggest  and  yellowest  grass 
hoppers  and  fattest  and  blackest  crickets  for 
midsummer  fishing,  and  the  greenest  frogs  and 
thinnest-shelled  crayfish  for  later  fishing. 

To  those  who  visit  fair  Champlain  and  partake 
of  and  enjoy  her  wealth  of  game  fishes,  her 
health-giving  air,  her  glorious,  sunny  days  and 
peaceful,  restful  nights,  may  there  come  again 
and  again,  in  the  language  of  the  lamented 
AYestwood,  the  nineteenth-century  Walton,  — 

"  Oh,  the  pleasant  roaming 
Homeward  through  the  gloaming  ! 

Oh,  the  heavy  creel,  alack!  Oh,  the  joyful  greeting! 
Oh,  the  jokes  and  laughter, 
And  the  sound  sleep  after, 

And  the  happy,  happy  dreams,  all  the  sport  repeating ! " 


I.  H.  H.  MURRAY'S  WORKS. 


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"Nothing  more  brilliant,  nothing  in  closer  conformity  with 
the  laws  of  the  imagination,  nothing  in  simpler  and  more 
classic  style,  has  ever  come  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Murray. 

"  Unlike  anything  that  has  preceded  it  in  American  litera 
ture." —  Boston  Herald. 

"A  grateful  relief  from  the  novels  of  the  Ilowells-James 
school  and  the  wildly  improbable  creations  in  Rider  Hag 
gard's  works." —  ATew  York  World. 

"Mr.  Murray's  pen  has  the  fascination  of  personality  and  he 
has  lost  none  of  his  literary  taste." — A7".  E.  Journal  of  Edu 
cation. 

"The  descriptive  passages  are  extremely  beautiful." — 
Philadelphia  Press. 

"These  are  wild  bits  of  romance  told  in  ornate  prose,  like 
Disraeli's  'Wonderful  Tale  of  Alroy.'" — Springfield  l\epubli- 
<can. 

"They  are  poetically  wrought  out,  and  attracts  by  the 
beauty  and  strength  of  its  diction  and  the  love-thread  which 
runs  through  it." — Philadelphia  Record. 

"As  a  love  story,  'Mamelons'  is  the  strangest  and  sweetest 
one  we  ever  read." — Nashua  (N.  H.}  Telegram. 


,    KlSKK  &  CO., 
361  and  365  Washington  Street, 
BOSTON. 


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6' 19791 


DEC  1  0  1979 


LD21— A-40m-8,'75  General  Library 

(S7737L)  University  of  California 

Berkeley 


U.  C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


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